The voice of the Sea
by Midnight Demonn
Summary: Sequel to The Diamond Island.A very handsome stranger boards the Nocturne,and all the girls are practically head-over-heels for him. Grace is one of them and Lorcan is devasted.Jez Stukeley, meanwhile, has everything he desires.But how long will it last?
1. Chapter 1

**Hi guys, I'm back! The exams are FINALLY over so****: ****I have, as it so seems, decided to pen another fiction down.**** This is the sequel to Dark Hours, where we left Natalie Velde in the hands of the handsome vampirate called Jez Stukeley. She's doing well, but will that last?**

**Special thanks to **Shadowhunter4life and Ashton**, who showed enthusiasm and pretty much helped me that way. Anyways, here's a short summary of what happened in the earlier fic:**

_A 15 year old girl gets kidnapped by the crew of the BLOOD CAPTAIN. Though she's completely unaware of her heritage, she's killed and reborn. The dark mystery and horror envelopes the girl's life as she's rescued by her vampire brother and our favorite Vampirate Captain from the NOCTURNE….one thing more, her journey didn't end there. You have to read the fic to know the whole story, obviously._

_*The half-vampire children are a new species to control the seas. Vampirates are going DOWN… (The bad ones obviously)_

**A Note to my readers:**

If you dislike horror and blood and murder, and if you happen to be a heart patient, please watch out. This's gonna be a bumpy ride! And I'd appreciate your feed back anytime. Any questions, suggestions, I'll be happy to answer. Thanks!

P.S. I hate Twilight. So don't think I'm gonna turn my story into that crap.

Hope you enjoy my work.

**CHAPTER ONE: The Beginning**

The soft golden rays of the dying sun painted the sky gold and the rippling waves of the sea red. The colors melted into each other, and one could not appreciate its beauty enough. The peace could make you sleep for ever. Various scents wafting from the sea itself made it easier to breathe.

Sea birds flew in the sky as the light slowly faded, and a young girl watched them with awe. The gentle breeze toyed with her long, dark hair, and her eyes changed colors as she watched. It seemed as if she could fly with those birds, for ever free. The gentle waves reflected her as she looked down and saw her own reflection down below the deck. She frowned, fingering at the delicate necklace around her slender white neck. Then her pale cheeks suddenly flushed and she looked up at the magnificent sky. She couldn't look at herself at the moment, or she would…loose control over herself…

The wind picked up speed and ruffled her hair. Her long white dress flapped around her legs as she sighed quietly, leaning again the rail once more. Apart from her, there was no one on the deck. Sometimes she wished that they were up with her during the day-it was so beautiful, just like a fairy tale.

But her life wasn't a fairy tale. Not anymore. When she'd been first thrown head first into a tunnel of reality, she'd thought that she'd never make it. She had, and she wasn't really sure how, but she sure loved how all had turned out into.

The cold wind brushed her cheeks and she closed her eyes, and faintly she could hear a beautiful, deep voice of a woman slowly singing. Her voice carried through the ocean like a slow, soft symphony that touched your heart. It was unearthly and perfect, and could put you in a trance for ever, if you listened to it.

She was always curious from where it came from. She'd listened to this soothing voice for eons and she'd never found the source. Someday, she was positive that she would and that would change her life for ever.

Change. Like the dark paint colors were converted into lighter ones if you mixed some water, or when the winter magically transformed into spring. Her life had changed so much. If she could go back through the time to tell herself how happy and contented she was now.

A loud splash caught her attention. The girl was startled; she tried to squint at the surface of the clear blue water, trying to see what had disturbed it. She could see a murky shape; vaguely like…a bottle…

Who'd thrown a bottle down there? There was no one up with her…

"Hey!"

She jumped slightly at the harsh voice, but didn't turn to see the speaker. It was time for her to return the wonderful sunset because they were waking up…

"Hurry, girl.", the lean-muscled man barked at her. He had a rather cruel face. There was a glint of anger and hunger in his eyes as he stared at her. "You wouldn't want the Captain to lose you"

The girl hurried down the staircase, her long hair flying behind her. All around her, she could hear the strange dry groans and creaking floorboards as the creatures woke up from their deathly slumber. She wasn't really afraid of them, but they still made her uneasy. She was a misfit among them after all.

The girl had nearly reached her room when a door suddenly opened and a white hand reached out. Before she had any time to scream, she was pulled sharply in the cabin of some Vampirate.

She was so dead.

Grace Tempest was having the time of her life. The slender glass was between her delicate fingers as she watched and cheered along with her fellow Nocturners, as the two lean lads stepped out on the clear part of the deck again

"Thanks to all my lovely fans!" Lorcan Furey yelled, his thin face flushed as the crowd acknowledged him.

The other lad beside him bowed slightly, grinning.

"One more time, please!" a request came flying at them.

"Yeah, you two have the same frequencies or what ever. Do it again!"

"That was awesome!"

"Yeah, go on, Lorcan!" Grace added, smiling widely at her friend. "That dance you did was great"

Lorcan turned towards her and bowed.

"If the Lady says it, it will be my pleasure", he said, grinning.

A few faces turned towards her and she reddened. But she merely smiled again. The people returned their attention towards the two guys in the middle.

And then the dance began. The two boys moved their feet in a special rhythm. Their combat boots contacted with the wood of the deck, making a well known Celtic music. It may be difficult for a human if they hadn't had any practice for certain hundred years, but these boys were not exactly what you can call a human. They had all probably lived for centuries. They did look normal and all-if you got over the fact that how pale they all were and how their eyes shone with emotion. They did eat normal food-but not always. The normal mortal food was just given to keep their temptations in check. Their real diet wasn't a real diet at all. It was blood. It was all they needed. Blood made them strong, healthy and powerful. It made them fast and resistant to all types of sickness. Though they looked like ordinary pirates-they were Vampirates. They were the ones who sailed through the unsheltered waters in search of blood, not gold.

They lived like mortals. They even acted like mortals, like now.

Lorcan Furey was entertaining the crew of the _Nocturne_ (the name of the ship) with a dance he'd learned when he was alive as a human. The boy along side him was only a year older than him and was from the same land as his mate. They had rediscovered their talent only a few hours ago and the crew instantly loved it.

It was a nice night, windy and starry. Grace wished she could sleep here under the millions of other worlds instead of her usual bed in her old cabin. But the Vampirates owned the deck from dusk till the dawn and there was possibly no chance. It would've helped if Lorcan had been kinder and had chased all of them away. But considering that he himself was one of them, it would be difficult. On the other hand, the enigmatic Vampirate Captain wouldn't have approved either.

Oh, well.

She returned her attention to the two boys whose legs moved so fast that they were almost a blur, while their upper torsos moved differently. The music of their feet on the deck was beautiful, almost-barbaric, like a war song or something. She watched as the boys leapt in the air-now that was something new-toss themselves in the air as if there was no effect of gravity upon them, and then landed crisply back down again. The crowd appalled even more loudly.

The people wanted another performance, but they turned deaf to their requests. The older boy slumped down, his back leaning against the rail as he breathed deeply and laughed at the same time.

Lorcan waved off the requests and pleas and went over to Grace.

"You liked it?" he asked softly, his deep blue eyes almost luminous in the semi-darkness. Grace nodded.

"It was amazing"

"Really?"

"Really."

He smiled slowly, though not really convinced. He ran a white, long fingered hand through his midnight black hair which was now short. Grace didn't know how he knew that she didn't like his hair longer. She kept her secrets to herself. Well, most of them, anyway.

"Mmmhmm." Grace sighed, smiling. Lorcan hesitated a bit at something, and when she tried to hug him, he took a small step back.

"Is something wrong?" she finally asked, disappointed.

"Er-no. I mean, Grace…I've been thinking and…" he stopped again, looking at their feet. Grace saw a little frown appear on his forehead.

"Hey, guys! _Guys!_" a voice behind them yelled. Grace turned to see her second best friend, Darcy Flotsam, running towards them. She was probably in a good mood because she kept smiling even when one of the lads stepped back and stepped on her foot accidentally. When Darcy finally reached them, Lorcan forgot what he was saying, and so did Grace.

"What's up, Darce?"

"A new…Vampirate…on our ship" she huffed.

"You mean Kenyon?" Lorcan smiled faintly. Kenyon was Jez Stukeley's deputy, and Darcy's Mr. Jetsam. Having killed by rogue Vampirates in the streets of Las Vegas, he had been stuck at twenty three for about two decades. He was a young one, as Jez often called him, but was a very quick learner.

"Oh, no" Darcy retorted happily, smoothing down her famous bob. "He's coming to visit me later in this week. No, I mean another fellow passenger!"

"Why are you so excited then?"

Darcy's dark eyes widened, and she probably thought Lorcan was nuts, because she turned away from him.

"Grace, you're going to love him" she exclaimed. "He's such a _gentleman_. He's a Young One like Ken, though he hasn't been to the Sanctuary yet, he's got really good control over himself. He isn't wild at all" She eyed Lorcan.

Lorcan snorted.

"So you're going to forget Kenyon?" he asked, amused.

"Oh, of course not, silly" she mocked his expression.

"Really?" Grace said. "You look kind of…I don't know. Dazzled"

Darcy grinned at both of them and put her hands on her hips.

"I'm perfectly normal, thank you" she said crisply. "Now, Grace dear, will you follow me? And you too, Mister Furey, if you can behave yourself. I want to introduce you to the fine man"

Lorcan rolled his eyes at the sky before following the two girls to the Captain's cabin. Darcy knocked at the door and they waited before they heard the door open and the Vampirate Captain appeared in the door way.

He was a tall and rather thin man, and none of his features were revealed because he wore a leather mask. His hair was concealed by a captain's hat, and he wore gloves.

"Ah. I assume you three want to welcome our new guest?" The captain spoke softly, and each of his word was audible.

"Yes, Captain" Darcy took the lead. "I saw him arrive, and fetched these two on the way to greet him. Is he up for meeting us?"

"Yes" came a voice behind the Captain. The Captain opened the door wider and a man appeared in the view. He wore rather shabby clothes, and old, worn sailor boots.

And Grace kept staring at him.

He was surrounded by golden light. Or at least it looked like it to her. His hair was golden, and his eyes were beautiful. He didn't even look like a Vampirate. He was tall, and lean, almost like…a lion. She cast her eyes down ward, flushing. Beside her, Lorcan scowled.

"I think I know _you_." He said curtly.

"No. I don't think so." The man retorted, his mouth curling into a laid-back smile.

Darcy smiled at him, and then began to introduce them all. First she held out her own small hand.

"I'm Darcy Flotsam," She said brightly. "The ship's figurehead."

"_Ah_," the man breathed, smiling again. "Nice to meet you."

"This is Grace Tempest." Grace smiled widely, feeling a fresh flush creep onto her cheeks as the handsome man grinned back at her, and took her hand in his own.

"Charming," the man said. His golden eyes were ringed with gray_. God_, he was so good-looking.

"And I'm Lorcan Furey," Lorcan said sharply, and Grace tore her gaze away from the new crewmate. What was up with him? Why was Lorcan acting so coldly towards the man? "I'm the lieutenant here."

"I won't get in _any_ trouble," the man smiled politely. If he noticed Lorcan's strange behavior, he chose to ignore it. "My Name is Leonardo Zeus. You can call me Leo."

"It suits your name." Grace spoke up for the first time, smiling and reddening to the extreme. Lorcan made an irritated noise.

"Well, Darcy can show you your new room," he said. "_Gracie_, I wanted to ask you---"

"Don't be _ridiculous_, Lorcan," Grace interrupted. "I'll go with Darce. You can always tell me later."

And she took Leo's arm and began to lead him away. Lorcan watched them, angry and rather hurt.

**So this is it for now, I think**. **Lorcan's jealous! Review! :) I'll update ASAP.**

**~dawnghost.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N**_: Sorry for the long wait, but reality called :-(_

_Special thanks to my reviewers and readers._

**Artemis Is Awesomeness****: **_Thanks so much for your idea, now I'm just gonna decide how to write it, you know, with all the 'things' I've been planning for ahead. Anyhow, keep your eyes open for ze surprise! And yeah, Lorcan is in for a jumbo surprise!  
_

_So…Here's another chapter – as by now, I'm pretty sure you've noticed ;)_

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**Chapter Two: **

The hand yanked her into a cabin before she had time to do anything but gasp. The Cabin was unfamiliar for a moment as panic crept into her. She spun around sharply as she heard the door close. Then she saw Jez standing there, looking entertained, and she relaxed.

His cabin was large by the normal standards, and that was because he owned this ship. A narrow hammock hung in a corner, with the white sheets twisted in every possible way. A metal cabinet stood by a small, cluttered desk, where he worked. The desk was set in front of thick, heavy curtains. She doubted that there was a window behind them because Vampirates avoided sunlight and windows.

"You don't have to scare me like that, you know." Natalie said softly, rubbing her other wrist.

Jez Stukeley was a Captain of a currently unnamed ship. He'd been turned into a Vampirate at Twenty-three by Sidorio, the vicious Captain of the Blood captain. He'd spent some time on that ship, serving as a deputy alongside Johnny Desperado. He'd been happy before the girl standing in front of him had arrived and had been resurrected by lightning, changing the road of his life. He'd run away from his only home, disobeying his Captain, who was like his father without ever regretting it. He'd survived the bloody fight that had broken out that evening.

"I didn't mean to," he said to her. "I was wondering what you were doing while all of my crew's just starting to wake up."

"I was going back to my cabin," Natalie told him, her lips widening into a smile. "Before you could ask me that question."

"Guess I did," he said, grinning softly. He turned away from her, and pulled the heavy curtains back to reveal a dark sky behind a huge glass window. The sight left her breathless---it was so beautiful. The room's darkness dissolved in the pure silver moonlight, and she could see the glittering waves below the ship. The sky was full of scattered stars. She could feel Jez's eyes on her.

"I didn't know you had a window here…" she paused as he stepped closer to join her. "Isn't this dangerous for you?"

"No." Jez closed his eyes as if he could feel the sea breeze on his pale face. His fingers closed over hers. He looked in total bliss, as if he didn't care about the world.

"Ever since I started taking your blood, I've been changing in very strange ways." His eyes opened again and he watched the sea. "It's like I'm addicted to it…you don't mind if I talk about it, do you?"

Natalie lowered her eyes and shook her head. She leaned against him. "No. I don't mind. C'mon, tell me. What does my blood taste like to you?"

"I can't explain." Jez sighed. He suddenly dropped her hand and leaned against the glass so that he was a dark shadow in front of silver. The lighter high lights in his otherwise dark hair stood out. "Natalie, are you happy here?" he suddenly asked her, his tone changing dramatically into a sharper one.

"Why do you ask that?" Natalie asked him, her eyes narrowing slightly.

"I don't know," he shrugged. "I get these weird feelings sometimes, as if you're hiding something."

Natalie shook her head, smiling peacefully as she took his hand in hers again. "I'm happy here, as I've told you a million times. Why do you worry so much?"

His eyes lowered to hers, his lashes like delicate black strokes of a pencil on a white paper. He was handsome, even when he was frowning, or was just expressionless, which was the usual expression he wore. Blank. Right now, it he wore a different expression—the one she'd never seen before. She found it hard to look away.

"Promise me," Jez whispered, resting her slender fingers against his cheek. "That you won't leave me. Or at least when you do, tell me before you go."

"I'm not planning to, and I hope I never will," she smiled up at him. She envisioned herself swooning right now, and cracked an even wider smile. She wouldn't do that in front of him. She'd never really had swooning fits before, and wondered how it would feel. Jez would obviously panic.

Silence ensued. After a moment, Natalie pulled away from him and started to leave. He sighed softly, watching her as she went away. She walked like an angel-or_ floated _around like one. He hoped she was right. She was five years younger than him, and his mates often told him that it was hard to trust a younger woman. But he trusted her, and believed in what she said.

Jez Stukeley leaned in forehead against the cool glass, and closed his eyes. The coolness soothed his nerves, and he thought what he was going to do that night. For a hundredth time, he wondered if he was going to do the right thing---or what would be her reaction.

::^!^::LATER::^!^::

Jez knocked softly on her door, and held his breath. His heart was hammering like crazy-if he had a heart. Fine shudders went up and down his spine as he waited. Beneath his hand, the smooth door felt rougher than usual. He could hear her heart for the other side of the door. He heard her as she sat up from her feet and came over to the door.

_Bare-footed._ He thought and smiled. Oh, how he adored her!

"Who's there?" a soft voice from the other side of the door asked suspiciously. Jez pressed his cheek against the wood, and breathed, "Can you guess?"

He could hear her breathe. He waited patiently, but of course he didn't need to for a very long time. With no hesitation, she snorted.

"Jez." She said, without hesitation. "You've scared all of your men away from this door. Not even Kenyon comes this way anymore."

As if on cue, a tall lad appeared on the other end of the corridor, his nose buried in a thin leather book. Jez, on recognizing the dark hair and grey eyes, said sarcastically, "Of course. Kenyon would be the last person on this earth to really think about something I say."

Kenyon Westerfield passed by, ignoring Jez. He disappeared around the corner, up towards the deck. Jez leaned against her door.

"You gonna let me in or am I gonna break in?" he asked her.

"You sure you wanna break in?" she teased him. "Because I'm not going to let you in."

Jez rolled his eyes. "Aw, c'mon. I'm lonely and cold out here." He heard her laugh, and the strange tingles inside him increased.

"Natalie, you are so cruel." He stated. "I'm standing here for the past ten minutes, and you're not opening a simple door."

"Jez, please. I'm having issues in here."

"Really?" he was amused.

"I'm planning how to climb the Mount Everest and then to take over the world."

"You _are_ going crazy in there."

"I was crazy before I met you, Jez Stukeley. Really, can you wait for another minute?"

"Oh, alright. I hope your one minute doesn't mean the whole night."

And then he waited. His fingers slid around a small box inside his pocket, and the shivered again. He wasn't sure what he was doing, but he had to tell her this. He'd been waiting for it for a long time. Leaning against the door, he wondered again. Was it too early? He hoped not. A dull flush started to creep up into his pale cheeks. The points of his upper canine teeth sharpened, but and, they always did when he was overwhelmed.

"Uh…Jez, I think you should come in." A startled voice came from inside as the door clicked open. "I don't know what's…"

Jez pushed the door open gently, and his fingers dropped from his pockets. He walked in the room, the neat little room, and looked around. A bed was pushed up against the bare wall, the covers piling onto the floor. An alarm went on inside his head. She wasn't there.

"Natalie? Where are you?"

No answer came.

Natalie had disappeared.

::^!^:

Meanwhile, for the Nocturners, the night was tension-free. The new member of the crew, Leo, was introduced to everyone. Grace stayed by his side, though she started to feel awkward. What do you do if a really handsome stranger appears and asks you to be by his side for the rest of the night? She could've replied that she had some plans she didn't want to cancel, but all the words had evaporated from her tongue. Instead, she'd started to give him a tour. She hardly qualified for the job, but Leo had insisted.

When Grace had begun to tire, they'd went back up on the deck. A ribbon of green had appeared in the east; it was about to dawn. Leo was enthusiastic to see the Dawning Bell, and after that, watch the sea as the sun came up, but Darcy gently told him that if he stayed there, it would be dangerous for him.

"Oh, I don't know," He said, shrugging. "I've spent a lot of time in the sun before."

Darcy looked at him pityingly. "Of course you have. When you were a mortal. You need to go inside now, Leo."

"How stupid is he?" Lorcan muttered in Grace's ear, from where they stood, next to the sails. He'd dragged her here, insisting that he wanted an opinion of hers on something. So far, Lorcan hadn't even brought the topic up, and was looking extremely sullen.

Grace narrowed her eyes at her friend, before saying, "Lorcan, I don't know what your problem is. Look, he's new, and he's eager to learn. He's also very young. He'd been turned only a few weeks ago. He told me."

"Humph."

"C'mon, stop it."

"Stop what?"

"That expression of yours. It makes me think that someone might be a bit jealous." Grace grinned up at him, her green eyes locked with his sky-blue ones.

Lorcan flashed a grin back, taking a small step forward. "Me? Who said I'm jealous?"

Grace laughed, shaking her head; she managed to hug him this time. He stiffened as she did, but didn't push her away. "Hey, Lorcan, you want to stay up late?"

"Mmm. I have to think about it," he teased her, but he was surprised too. "Why asking?"

"I don't know. I've been so busy with Darcy that I haven't seen you much."

Lorcan took her by the hand and started to lead her inside. His touch was cold as ever, but his fingers trembled slightly around hers. They passed Darcy, who waved at them once, before climbing down towards the front of the ship where she turned into wood. Almost everyone was gone now. The sun burned the Vampirates to death. Lorcan had once risked his life out in daylight to assort Grace to the Diablo. It had burned his face, singeing his eyebrows and his eyes too sore to open. Grace was sure he wouldn't do that again, staying out. If he did, she knew she'd kill him before the sun did.

"I think I'll skip this meeting today." Lorcan decided. "I'm bushed. I need sleep, okay?"

Grace sighed, and nodded. He held her hand a bit longer, squeezed it once, and then disappeared to his room next door. She pushed open her cabin's door, and was glad that she at least had a window. Grinning, she pulled apart the curtain and flopped down on the bed. She kicked off her shoes, thinking that he was probably right. She'd walked through half of the known places in the ship, and she was exhausted.

Some people couldn't sleep in the light. But Grace Tempest had learned to do so, because she'd come to value the sunlight that bathed her room. She was snuggling under the covers when she noticed something on her desk. The desk had been given to her by Jez Stukeley a few months ago, the very special desk through which he or Natalie often communicated with her. She slipped out of the bed, and walked over to the dark piece of furniture. A folded note had appeared in the centre of it, with a neat 'G' scribbled upon it. Grace knew that it was Jez's writing, but he hadn't written anything to her ever since Natalie had changed her home. It had just been Natalie's letters.

Curious now, Grace carefully unfolded the stiff paper and realized that it was Jez Stukeley's writing. But it was no longer neat; instead, it was rushed and it reflected that something had happened.

With her heart hammering loudly in her chest, and hoping everything was alright, she began to read:

_Grace-_

_Natalie's disappeared. I don't know where she went. She was just behind the door, and she seemed surprised about something. I went in, and she'd just disappeared. Please, look around the Nocturne for me. She's a half-vampire like you and Connor, I think she…I don't know what I think. Please. I'm waiting for your answer._

_-Jez._

When she was finished reading, Grace Tempest could only think three words:

Where was Natalie?

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_**A/**_**N: Well, there's another one! Hope you liked it ... but if you didn't, can't say I blame you! I was pretty tired when I wrote this! And I've got a massive writer's block. Anyway, do me a massive favor please?**

**Review?**

**Until the next chapter, then.**

**~dawnghost.**

**And oh, people, please do me another favor and read&review Conversations. It will make my day.  
**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Greetings, Earthlings!**

**A massive thanks to my Reviewers who spend some time reading my fic and then reviewing it. Thanks to my readers too, I know a couple of people who read it but don't have time to make any comment. I love you guys! Thanks for all your support.**

**I came across the book **_La Princetta et le Capitaine_. **I totally love Orpheus**. **It turned out to be a rather sad story in the end, but it was full of drama, magic and excitement. I got a few ideas from it, and I'm really impatient to write them down. **

**So…here's the chapter.**

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**CHAPTER THREE: VANISHED**

**Grace**

The sky overhead was of a dark grey color, and it threatened to rain again. It had been raining on and off ever since the last two days. Grace was up on the deck, watching the Sea-spray foam along the ship's side. It was really chilly out today, and she wondered vaguely what month it was. She'd lost track of the date weeks ago, and hadn't bothered to find out.

Shivering, she drew her cloak-_Lorcan's_ cloak, actually-tighter around herself. It fit her loosely, and she wasn't in any hurry returning it back. It was comfortingly warm and soft. She 'borrowed' it when the last time Connor had visited her, when it had been raining as if some giant was throwing bucket after bucket of icy water upon them. Lorcan had been occupied with things these past days, and hadn't even noticed that his prized possession was missing. Or perhaps he had, but was too lazy to investigate who's taken it.

Connor. Grace knew he was busy, but he'd never gone that long without seeing her. He'd promised that he'd visit her sooner than the last time, and it was nearly six months long now. She missed him so much. Not seeing him for such a long time stirred strange and horrifying thoughts in her mind. What if he was in a fight? What if he'd gotten injured? What if he was d-?

_Stop it._ Grace told herself. _Connor knows how to take care of himself._

And now, Natalie had disappeared. Grace hoped Jez had been honest with her, because if Natalie had somehow run away…But she couldn't have. She'd been so happy there. Jez was the only person who'd made her smile after Raymond's death.

Grace bit her lip, frowning at the churning waves. As she did so, she spotted something. It looked like…a dark something. As the wind grew harsher, and the waves hit the ship's side powerfully, the shapeless dark thing was carried closer to her. It was torn, several shreds only joined to the cloth by feeble threads. It looked like a ruined gown.

If it was a gown, what was it doing here, in the middle of nowhere? Grace leaned forward, but she was too high up to reach it. And it was so cold that she couldn't possibly dive and get it. She'd be lost.

She stared at it for a few moments, watching it bob up and down. Its bodice was ripped, sleeves were gone. Watching it brought an unexpected chill to her spine. Whose was it?

A sharp cracking sound cut the silence, and she jumped. She turned around to see a dripping wet Darcy climbing up the rail. Grace's eyes automatically traveled up to the sky. It couldn't be dark yet! The sky was still light!

"Darcy!" Grace exclaimed. "Is it time already?"

Darcy squinted at her. "Time?" she repeated, confused.

Grace went over. Darcy looked rather pale.

"Are you okay?"

"Oh, I'm fine. What were you asking a moment ago? I didn't hear it."

"I asked whether it was time already. You know, to ring the Bell."

Darcy looked surprised. "Of course it is. Grace, you looked worried. Is everything alright?"

"Well, no. It isn't." Grace said, and towed her friend over the end of the ship where she'd seen the shredded gown before, and pointed. "Look."

Darcy watched the dress for a moment, and then looked at Grace in horror. "Grace, is that my dress?"

Grace shrugged her shoulders. "How should I know? Well, is it?"

"Is it the one I lent you the other night?" Darcy asked.

"No way. I would never throw away your dress, Darcy."

"Oh. Then it isn't mine." She looked scandalized as she watched it again. "Who would ever dare to treat their clothes like that? It's a disgrace!"

"Darce. I don't think it belongs to anyone on the ship." Grace said nervously. "It was carried here."

"But still. It looks like it was such a lovely gown." Darcy sighed heavily.

"I'm more worried about who it belongs to." Grace confessed. Quickly, she told her about Natalie's disappearance. Grace hadn't told anyone about Captain Stukeley's letter yet, and it was a mistake. She should've mentioned it.

"Do you think she ran away?" Darcy asked, pale again. "She did escape the Sidorio last year without getting noticed."

"That's what I thought, too. But she'd never do that." Grace said. "Darcy, Jez treats her as if she's the only real thing in this world. She would never leave him even in a million years. Besides, he told me that she'd been in her room. How could she escape? I don't think there is any window in her cabin."

"This is rather strange." Her friend said quietly. Grace wasn't sure what her friend was thinking. "Hey, Kenyon promised he'll arrive today. I'm sure Jez will come too. We'll discuss it then."

Was it her imagination or was Darcy's face was suddenly so blank? Grace looked away from her as the Dawning Bell was sounded.

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**Natalie**

Natalie Velde's eyelids felt heavy. She was breathing shallowly. All her senses were gone, it seemed, because she couldn't hear, feel or see anything. Endless blackness swirled under her eyelids. Sudden fear seized her heart. Where was she? Why couldn't she move? How long had she been out like this?

And…she felt so afraid. She was alone, where ever she was. Her heart was beating irregularly in her chest, pumping blood to her hands and feet, so she couldn't be dead yet. She strained her mind to remember what had happened, but her memory was utterly blank, like she was trying to read a plain white wall. Natalie had never felt like this, even when Sidorio had her pushed into the storm so she could be hit by lightning and die. Her memories of what had happened had come rushing back to her like water rushing through broken barriers of a dam. But now…

Despair coursed through her; she tried to open her eyes again. Nothing happened. She felt muscles of her body protesting against her command. She was just floating in nothingness, an endless realm…

Then a sharp pain jabbed at her ribs, and she felt herself choking. Coughing, she struggled to breathe. She wasn't drowning. How could she? She couldn't even feel water in her lungs yet. No, it was as if someone had deliberately kicked at her chest, just to see what happened. For a moment, the deep blackness dissolved into a painful grey. Painful tingles ran up and down her limbs, and she suddenly felt the surface she was lying upon.

Under her fingers, she felt…something rough. Wood? No, it was something softer.

Then she felt dampness on her legs. Cold breeze brushed her bare skin, and panic exploded in her. In that moment, her eyes flew open, and a low gasp cut out of her parched throat. Natalie's head spun, as if a ship was capsizing. A dull pain thudded at the back of her head, and sweat soaked through her shirt, clung to her skin. Her pants were ripped off her legs from her thighs. Her skin looked bruised, white and black in the darkness.

It was so hot. Pushing her hair out of her eyes, she slowly sat up. She was lying in a hammock in a corner of a very bare room. She could hear a low buzz of a thousand bees. Startled, she gripped the edges of the hammock as it swayed dangerously. It was awhile later when she realized that the droning of the bees she was hearing was actually a babble of hundreds of human voices. She blinked, trying to see clearly but only saw stars for a moment.

Now she was really afraid. Where was she? What was she doing there?

Mustering all the power she could manage, Natalie slipped out of the hammock and onto the hard floor. Her les shook so badly that she thought she would fall. Her eyes slowly took in the room. It was bare, and rather smallish, with no windows. A single door stood on her left, painted a hideous brown color that reminded her of a vomit. Nauseated, she hauled herself up, groaning. Pain ran up her spine, watering her eyes. Even in the darkness she could see dark bruises forming on her skin. Had she been beaten? She was sure there had been no bruises on her body before. Ugly purple bruises ran down under her shirt, and she could feel them everywhere on her body. Oh, God, what had happened to her? She was sore all over.

Gritting her teeth, she made over to the door. Her fingers brushed the rough material once, grabbing only air. Bewildered, she looked down to see that there was no handle. She'd been locked in.

.````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````

**Jez**

His heart was pounding painfully in his chest again. He bit down the panic and loneliness that had gathered in his gut as he paced over the deck of his ship. He'd ordered everyone who was up to go down, and not to disturb him. He knew he was spoiling a perfectly good evening of his crew, it was a rainy night, but he wasn't thinking of his crew at the moment.

Kenyon was leaning against the rail, watching him like a hawk. Seriously, why couldn't that guy just leave him alone? Why did he irked Jez all the time by following him like a loyal puppy?

"Easy, Jez." Kenyon warned him from where he stood. His eyes were focused far over the lolling waves. He stood a bit tensed, as if Jez was going to attack him any moment.

"Easy what?" Jez snapped. He turned his back upon his Deputy, and clutched the rail tightly. The cool material moved slightly as he gripped it. He didn't care. He didn't care about anything. His emotions were driving him crazy.

"Easy on the rail. It's gonna break." Kenyon pointed out from the other side of the deck.

"Shut up." Jez growled irritatedly. Why couldn't they see the Nocturne yet? Where were those damned creatures, anyway?

"Stop cursing them. Be patient." Did the fellow wanted his neck to be broken?

"No, I don't. If you do it, Darcy will kill you." His tone took on a bit of sarcasm. "You don't want that, do you?" Jez had genuinely forgotten that Kenyon had the rare ability to read people's minds. Not exactly read it like a book, he'd told Jez, but to taste what others might be thinking. Jez hadn't been sure he'd understood what his friend had told him.

"You should've been a housefly." Jez told him curtly. "Can't you stop bothering me?"

"Not exactly. If you want to destroy your ship, then go ahead."

He gazed down guiltily at his hands. He'd bent the metal to a very strange shape, as if someone had repeatedly smashed their head there. Sighing, he clasped his hands behind his back, gazing at the black clouds that were turning grayish as they moved over the moon.

Natalie was gone. She was gone somewhere, and she could be hurt. She may need him. Anxiety wasn't a good emotion for Jez. It drove him mad. Especially when it concerned her. The need for her to be beside him was wrenching his insides like a tangled pile of wires being snatched away from a socket.

"I see them." Kenyon announced suddenly. Jez turned to join his mate. At first he couldn't make out anything. Then as he squinted, a very faint shape formed on the horizon. Jez sucked in his breath.

"How so sure? It could anyone." He said.

"I know. I'm sure it's them." Kenyon paused for a moment. "I've talked to Cecil. She's said that she'll take care of everything like the last time, but first she was to be allowed to use the 'Grand' bathroom."

Jez smiled faintly. The 'Grand' bathroom was only allowed to the Captain. It was a bit larger than the public toilet, and a lot cleaner. He was sure Cecil-Who had a rebellious nature, would take any opportunity to get to it. She'd been trying to get it ever since she boarded the ship. Jez had only been teasing her, daring her to take it. He knew he should've acted _captainlier_, but he hadn't been able to resist.

The dark shape was growing ever closer. At last Jez could make out the long, leathery black sails of the Nocturne. It cut across the sea noiselessly, as if a ghost of a ship. Haunting shadows etched upon the waves as it sailed smoothly towards them. Kenyon, ignoring Jez's orders, called the crew back up. He knew Jew was too far away to notice much. That poor guy was really suffering. The last time, Kenyon remembered, when Jez had set off to find Natalie, it had been years ago. He'd risked his neck again and again, trying to win her over. Kenyon knew that if it wasn't for him, Jez would probably be ash now. He'd escaped from the Blood captain to warn Jez just in time.

Jez started to hear the voices of his crew, which consisted of both humans and renegade Vampirates. He'd been able to bond them to each other, thus accomplishing a task Mosh Zu was probably proud of-if he knew. The Vampirate Captain had approved of him the last time he'd seen him too. Before that, during Sidorio's reign, he'd nearly destroyed the peace and harmony on the Nocturne. He'd broken Darcy Flotsam's heart, and mulled over it for quite a time. But then…

The ship was too close now. He could see several people on the deck to greet them. However, there was neither a masked man among them, nor a young nineteen year old girl. All he could see was Grace Tempest, her auburn hair gleaming in the dull light, beside a blue eyed Vampirate who was called Lorcan Furey, the Lieutenant of the ship, who held her hand. A small woman with a swishy black bob who waved at them stood a little away, a golden haired Vampirate whom Jez had never seen before and many others were piled on the deck. Jez felt disappointment flood through him, because from the looks on their faces, he gathered that they were all confused and anxious.

Damn.

Jez had searched every nook and cranny for Natalie on his ship, sadly with no success. Where had she vanished of to? It was rather strange. He knew half-vampires were supposed to be stronger than the full vampires, but disappearing like that was really disturbing. Connor or Grace had never done this before. Thinking of Connor, Jez realized he hadn't seen him ever since he'd brought Bart and Cate over to the Nocturne along with their little three year old son. Grace had told him he was angry at the world at that moment, for some entirely unknown reason.

Kenyon climbed onto the rail, balanced himself, and jumped down, landing perfectly on his feet. The moment he landed, Darcy was squeezing the air out of his lungs. Trying to grin at the scene, and relieved that it wasn't him who she was sucking the air out of, he followed. He was vaguely aware of Cecil watching him with pity open on her delicate features.

"Hello, Jez." Grace greeted him. "I got your letter. Jez, I'm so sorry."

Jez nodded, already knowing it. Lorcan was gazing at him with curiosity.

"Are you sure you didn't murder her in your room while drinking her blood, hid her under your bed and now you've forgotten it?" he asked innocently. Jez didn't remember ever talking to that guy. He hoped this was the last time.

"Sure, and her body's rotting away under there." Jez answered sarcastically.

"Was she a half-vampire like Grace?" asked a low, musical voice and Jez turned to see honey colored eyes staring at him thoughtfully.

"Yes, she _is_." Kenyon said, finally untangling himself from the figurehead. "Don't use past tense, please. My Captain's quite hysterical at the moment."

Jez carefully composed his face, startled by the warm flush that crept up in his cheeks. He swallowed, and said in a controlled voice, "But halves don't just magically disappear, do they?"

"No." Grace replied, biting her lip. "I've never done it. Neither has Connor."

"Connor?" the golden eyed stranger repeated.

"My twin brother." Grace replied. She turned back to Jez. "So what're you going to do now?"

"I'll keep looking for her." He replied indifferently.

"Or he'd fall to pieces." Kenyon added helpfully.

"Kenyon, she's. My. Donor." Jez said through gritted teeth. "So shut up."

To ease the tension, the golden eyed stranger stepped forward. He smiled business-like at Jez. "I haven't introduced myself, have I?" he thrust out his hand towards the Captain. "Call me Leo. Short for Leonardo Zeus. Would you like me to help find the missing girl?"

"Any kind of help is welcome." Jez shook the cold hand firmly.

"Then let's go inside for a while. I'm sure you'll find me useful." Leo grinned.

_~Oh I've searched the endless skies for you_

_Thinking that I might catch you hiding up in those clouds_

_And might come down like an angel to me_

_Because you complete my world._

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**Well, I'm satisfied with this chapter. I'm currently writing a story along with it, because college starts in August, I think. I'm bored out of my wits. I'm patiently waiting to know what you think, because I am a spoiled brat who loves loads of reviews. **

**CHALLENGE:**

**I also decided to end this chapter with a question. The one who would first answer correctly will get a sneak-peek of the next chapter. **

**Q. What is the name of the place where Bart and Connor took Jez when he had a bloodlust in the book **_**The Blood Captain**_**?**

***Hint:**

**Where they sold blood to the hungry Vampires.**

**Good Luck.**

**~dawnghost. **


	4. ANPLZ forgive me I'm a dork, I know

**Tally-ho!**

**I know, I know, I'm gonna be murdered. Yes, I'm alive. It's been-what?-a year since I last updated a Chappie? Hey, I'm a college girl now, so sue me. I still get busy. Busier. Plus, I've been writing my story for ages now and it's gonna be published so…**

**It's about a girl who fells into a black hole and finds that the world in there's not so different, only way back in time. Carriages, Ball-gowns, Prince frogs and corsets…that kinda stuff. I think it destroyed my mind, researching and researching. I have gone mad, I assure you.**

**About this story. I'm gonna update it this WEEKEND. If not, then this Monday. **

**I just wanted to know whether you guys have abandoned me. So, my little grasshoppers, I'll give you a treat soon. Keep your fingers crossed!**

**~DawnGhost.**

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**.NO MORE WAITING...IF you guys have given up waiting, that is.  
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**P.S. I really need ideas. And reviews so that I know who I'm writing this for, cuz I haven't read the series after Black Heart.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Yaaaaalo! Yes, yes, you guys (anyone out there?) are probably waiting for me with knives and bullets and a nice warm fire…I'm ashamed, really. I really meant to update this sooner, but my cousin died. He was only fifteen and a half, and was the dearest thing. He went to a friend's for brunch…well, they weren't exactly friends, but were more like classmates. Anyway, a guy gate-crashed the party and the host had a gun. It was loaded and no one knew and the guy who gate-crashed the party took the gun and aimed it at my cousin Mahd and shot him in the head…it was horrible, the way his blood was lost…well…Mahd passed away three days later. **

**If anyone of you want to see how Mahd looked like, you can find plenty of open groups on Facebook, like In the Memory of Mahd Faisal and long live Mahd Faisal. You can join them and pray for his forgiveness.**

**Thanks.**

**Also, loads of chocolates and sunshine for:**

fabymendez10, Anonymous, ClarVoYant2015, DeMoN of ThE SeA, Shadowhunter4life, Artemis Is Awesomeness, And last but not the least, Ashton. Lub ya all.

**Disclaimer: I DO NOT own Vampirates. Every character belongs to Justin Somper (Except the ones I invented of course) **

**Now…on with the story…! **

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**CHAPTER FOUR: Lost?**

Natalie groaned. She couldn't believe this was happening to her. Why did bad luck always follow her? She knew she wasn't born with it. No bloody way.

Damn. Damn. Damn.

She tried pushing the thick door, even though her whole body was protesting with pain. She tried to budge it away. She kicked at it-Lord knew whether her foot was in a good shape; every part of her hurt like hell. She threw her whole weight upon it.

Nothing, not even a squeak.

There was no way she could try opening it the other way. There was no handle. No deformed wood chunk she could tug.

Next, she tried breaking it. In order to do so, she needed something heavy. There was nothing heavy in the room which she could carry. The room was stark bare with nothing but a worn hammock-the only thing to accompany her.

Sighing, she slipped against the door, her movements sluggish with fatigue and pain. Where was she? How could it be that no one heard her? Surely she'd made a lot of noise banging on that door with nearly breaking all her limbs. She shouted herself hoarse. If she tried to yell or scream threats and curses again, she'd throw up her larynx.

But what worried her most was that how she'd ended up there in the first place. She'd been only teasing Jez from inside the room, refusing to let him in until this strange morbid feeling had passed over her.

She'd been standing on the floorboards, looking for her shoes, because Jez would've started on about how she'd end up sick for weeks just because she liked to walk bare-footed.

She'd paused when this weird feeling had hit her. Not exactly hit her. It was more like the clash of a tsunami against a city. Her legs had buckled and that was when she'd called out to him. But it had been too late.

Everything had blacked out.

Now, she'd woken up in some strange, unfamiliar room which, she was convinced, was not part of Jez's ship. The walls and floor were made out of stone. She had a sinking feeling that she was too far away from home for Jez to hear. Her heart ached due to this realization. Despair coursed through her.

Her sore eyes scanned the room for a millionth time. Nothing with which she could escape.

Ah. So this was what damsel in distress meant.

She closed her eyes, as if she'd given up. She had no idea for how long she'd been imprisoned here. She couldn't even tell whether it was day or night. She could only guess and make herself feel better by the grumbles her stomach was making. Which, by the way, could wake up the dead. Not that she wanted to wake any decomposed being with her noisy stomach.

She knew better than that.

She slipped on the cold marble floor, feeling helpless. She mustn't give up.

_C'mon. Get up._

Natalie Velde had felt so much pain in her life. Her beaten up body was pathetically useless, so she couldn't even sit up without feeling daggers at her back.

Lord, how on Earth did she get into this state?

Lost. That was what she was.

The pain of giving in. How would she go back to him? She knew she pained him. Her absence, he silence shattered his world. Yes, Natalie knew how Jez felt about her. It hadn't been so long, but he'd changed. For her. She knew that he would've been more than worried right now. The whole _Covert_-Jez's ship, would be unstable.

She wished he was near. She wished she could talk to him. She remembered how strange he'd become two years ago, when she'd arrived on the _Blood Captain_. Jez had told her how much she'd changed his view of the world. She remembered…

Sidorio spilling her blood on her second day at his ship. Jez Stukeley cleaning her up-gently, almost as if caringly-then light hitting her squarely and everything blacking out-something tingling in her neck and a feeling of something being taken out of her body slowly, followed by unfamiliar pain-scared, ashamed eyes glancing at her-Jez Stukeley at her door, leaning against the wall, snoring slightly at day-then again Jez Stukeley in the pale moonlight, looking up at her, with blood everywhere on him, watching her, scaring her with those dazed, animal eyes…

…Then when she'd met him, so many years later…He'd changed. She'd been on the ground, and had extended a hand to help her up. He'd fought alongside Connor, protecting him and shielding him. Then coming to find her, and saving her.

Then the time when he'd been standing alone on the deck of the _Nocturne. _She'd walked up to him, felt her legs quiver when he'd looked at her with those lifeless eyes. He'd smiled but it hadn't reached his dark, enigmatic eyes. So cold she'd felt when he hadn't reacted to the news of their shared bond. He'd been hiding himself from her then, protecting himself from anymore pain. He'd looked so shocked when she'd confessed her secret.

He'd been beyond ecstatic that night.

Then the two years she'd spent on the_ Covert. _He'd been the perfect gentleman, always caring for her needs and freedom. He'd given her all of the things she wished.

It was hard to think he was something which had scared her, her enemy in the past. Sure, he could kill, and still did. It was in his nature this supernatural violence. When he knew when not to show his dark side to her.

She wouldn't give up. For him. She had to find a way out. Somehow.

Before someone came and…

She thought she heard footsteps.

::^!^::

Lorcan's gut twisted and coiled like snakes confined in a too small space. He knew he shouldn't feel resentment towards the new passenger, but he couldn't help it.

Leo sat in the Captain's cabin, conserving in low tones. The others listened in rapt attention. He sat in shadows cast by Grace and Darcy. The girls seemed so…

Ugh.

Lorcan tore his eyes from Grace and finally tuned in to what they were saying.

"…of course. She's my donor." Jez Stukeley was saying heatedly.

The newcomer looked delighted. "Why then, this makes it easier for us to locate her. For how long have you been using her?"

Jez stuttered, bewildered, "Not…using…"

Grace laughed as dull colour flooded in Jez's cheeks. "We share blood here, Leo. We don't 'use' anybody. In that sense, the population of who knows what kind of creatures would multiply to large numbers."

Lorcan stared at her. "Creatures like you, right?"

She turned away from him and went on, ignoring him, "So how long have you been sharing blood with her, Jez?"

"Eh, must've been quite a long time." Kenyon mused from his perch, just below Darcy's legs. He sat in lotus style. "She was what? Fifteen? When Sidorio kidnapped her. Then I rememba Ol' Jez falling for her…then the time when her brother Raymond Rees rescued her…"

"I took her blood only once then." Jez sighed tiredly. Was it possible for a Vampirate to feel tired? "Her Resurrection night. I stole it, to be more exact. She wasn't very…responsive at that time. Dead, more like. Then she was gone. I met her after three years then. So I've been her acceptor for two years now."

Leo seemed impressed. "Whoa. You guys…are certainly very fond of your donors. Back from where I came, they weren't like that. Not at all."

"How old are you?" Jez wanted to know.

"One and a half decade." Leo grinned. "I'm practically a newborn. So this controlling thing is very alien to me."

_You have to learn then_, something, a sort of a whisper filled the air. The Vampirate Captain. Of course. He stood into the melting shadows, seeming faintly amused. Which was very strange for him. _We are shipping you to Mosh Zu's, of course, since we picked you up. However, you have quite a control over yourself. I have not seen it before in any fledgling._

"It's not normal, is it, then?" Leo asked, eyes wide.

"Nope." Grace grinned at him. "You sure seem something."

"Back to the topic." Jez tapped his knuckle against the chair he was slouched in. "What do you know about finding her, Zeus?"

Every gaze returned to him. It was marvellous, really, the way everybody's attention was fixed upon him. Lorcan was very aware of the fact that Grace had slipped a bit closer to Leo.

"Well, I know that once you mark a human-"

"Dhamphir." Darcy corrected before Grace could.

"Yes, dhamphir, you create a strong bond with them. Dhamphirs are physically and mentally stronger than the ordinary beings, so they are relatively easier to find. Stukeley, you can easily find her if you search for her mind-"

"Search for her what?"

"Her mind. Her presence." Leo emphasized, gesturing around his head. "Her auras, you know? Can you?"

Jez looked blank.

"No." Kenyon elaborated. "His mind's as blank as his face."

Darcy smiled, and said, "Kenyon's a mind reader."

Silence.

Even that smug little bottle cap called Leo was surprised.

"No way, Darce." Lorcan said loudly. "I know you're crazy, but you can't be this crazy to believe in such bogwosh."

Darcy had the grace to look offended. She sniffed haughtily, and turned her back to him. That made two. Two women to turn their backs on him in one night. What the hell?

"But…" Grace started, sidetracked again. Jez was bottling all his emotions, Lorcan could clearly see. They were wasting his time. Apparently, Kenyon, his lieutenant realized it too.

"I'm not a mind reader." He complained irritatedly, shielding his face. "Never was. Get back to the damn topic already, Mister Zeus."

Leo nodded and turned to Jez, who was straddling his chair absently. "I advise you to explore your bond. It seems impossible to do so when you're anxious, so you have to remain calm. Rest. If you feel any hunger pangs, please avoid using a random donor. That will severe the bond you have with this girl. When you feel her presence, you can easily find her."

"Thank you." Jez said blearily, getting up. Kenyon did the same. "I'll let you guys know…about the process." He looked lifeless. No one had ever seen him look like that. He could've been attacked by Sidorio or Medusa or even a Sea Monster **(Here I resisted the urge to add Barney the purple Dinosaur. Sorry, guys, I hated him in my childhood. Hated that darn song.) **And he wouldn't have cared in the least.

"C'mon, then, mate," Kenyon clapped on his back. "Let's go. Thank you very much, captain," (Vampirate Captain) "for having us here, and helping us. Good-bye, gentlemen and ladies. This is our cue to leave." He flicked an imaginary hat on his head.

And he hauled his dead friend out. Literally.

Darcy stood frozen where she was, looked at the slammed door with a mixture of hurt and trepidation. She pursed her lips. No one said anything as they shuffled out.

There was a thin green line, rapidly expanding, on the horizon. Millions of stars, now faint, dusted the sky. Nearly time for the Dawning bell.

Lorcan couldn't see Stukeley's ship anymore. How did they disappear so fast?

"So." Grace said quietly, somewhere behind Lorcan. "What d'you think?"

Lorcan opened his mouth to retort, but realized she hadn't asked him.

"He seemed like a determined chap." Leonardo Zeus mused. "I'm sure he'll find her. Pray tell, who is she, really? He seems quite hung up on her."

_Everybody notices Jez's feelings,_

Lorcan broke that train of thought and lifted his face upwards. Sea breezes caressed his face and gently ruffled his clothes. It felt cold. In front of him, the vast sea rolled on, it's ripples and waves going on and on for ever. He remembered what he'd told Grace once. The sea was like an endless time for him. Each droplet like a minute for him. An endless abyss.

He'd been alone through most of it. Sighing, he drew his jacket closer around himself. Even the seas, huge they were, ended somewhere. Time was endless, but there was a limit. He was allowed to live up to a certain limit, greater than mortals. But one day, he believed, either the world would end or would he.

He didn't want to be alone anymore.

This strange need, whenever he saw any couple, seemed to grow. It was alien to him, strange and something unexplored. It tempted him to think that he was incomplete. Something…was missing.

He could perfectly understand what Jez Stukeley might be feeling because of Natalie Velde's absence.

Missing.

Was he lost?

"LORCAN!"

He jumped, whipping around to see a very frustrated Darcy standing beside him with a rage of a thousand tornadoes.

"Hello." He said weakly.

"What is wrong with you?" Darcy yelled. "Go back to your bloody cabin already! I can not wait for you for ever, you know! Are you suicidal-?"

"Whoa," Lorcan raised his hands in surrender. "I'm going. Calm down, Darcy."

"I can't wait, you pompous moron! Go!" He actually saw her stomp her foot. He took off just as the sun broke out of the horizon. He didn't see Darcy stiffen.

He didn't see the glitter on her cheeks as she climbed down to turn into wood-the ship's figurehead.

He closed his door, extremely bushed. Lorcan couldn't believe he'd nearly fried himself again. These thoughts of his were getting out of hand. He couldn't help but think like this lately. He'd meant to ask Grace about them earlier, but he hadn't had a chance. Perhaps she could unravel them. He certainly couldn't.

But Lorcan had a very strong feeling that she would be occupied from now on.

She had taken Leo in before the Dawning Bell, hadn't she? That was very nice of her. But not very nice that she'd forgotten him standing there, spaced out like that.

He'd been saved because of Darcy.

Darcy. What was her problem, anyway?

Natalie's disappearance had certainly affected a whole lot of people. He wished she'd be okay, and Jez would find her soon. Because if he didn't, Lorcan had no hope of discovering what his thoughts meant, at all.

::^!^::

Connor Tempest was having the worst day of his life.

Hitting a storm was quite a thrill, really. The way adrenalin rushed through his veins when the raging waters slammed against the ship…it was one main way for the adrenalin junkies to enjoy themselves. But this way? Never.

The lightning streaked vertically across the brilliant indigo sky, and it looked like the sky was splitting. The wind howled, crashing into the sails, tearing at them before the crew could secure them. It had gotten out of control. Waves of icy water sprayed and splashed on the helpless crew as the sails tore free from their hold and flapped wildly everywhere. Storm rolled on, roiling the ship in its grip.

"Secure yourselves!" Connor heard their Captain shout. "There's nothing more we can do! Secure yourselves now!"

It had never been this bad, Connor thought, as he tied himself to the ship's mast, fumbling with the rope. He looked up, his hair wild about his face, as the lightning flashed again, illuminating the otherwise dark, destroyed deck of his home. He heard yells, screams and wails pierce through the air.

The wind had somehow gotten stronger, harder. It blew hailstones at him, fat rain drops and who knew what more. He held on.

"Please!"

He heard a woman scream somewhere near him. He couldn't see-the saltish water momentarily blinded him. He rubbed it away from his eyes, squinting in the chaotic darkness for the source of distress.

"Please! No-"

Suddenly he could see, a woman-Fat Hestia-the cook-who'd come out from the kitchen earlier to serve the rowdy crew the roast, being thrown up against the rail. She was unsecured.

Nobody was paying her any attention. The crew was busy securing itself to the most durable parts of the ship, saving themselves. Besides, Connor was the one nearest to her.

Hestia screamed again, wide gashes bleeding on the face, holding onto the fragile rail as another wave towered over them-

"Hestia! Give me your hand!" Connor yelled.

She didn't hear him.

Grunting, Connor stretched out his arm as far as it would go. "Hestia!" he yelled again, trying to be heard over the noise, "Here!"

She finally turned to him, her fat face white and hair pasted flat on her head.

"Give me your hand!"

Hestia cried out as the wave hit them. Sputtering, she groped for his hand blindly. They were inches apart. Again, the ship rocked, hard.

Something flew at Connor then, something solid, something alive and screaming.

Great. Another girl. How come he was the one saving all the girls? Why were they being hauled at him like tennis balls?

He caught her around the waist. Lucky for him, she was thin and now unconscious, because he was able to tie her beside himself. One arm still around Jasmine Peacock's waist, Connor reached for Hestia again.

But Hestia was nowhere in sight.

As the black water leveled down again, he could see the broken rail. The broken part was missing, and it had taken the Ship's cook along with it.

Cold currents of the storm continued to hit him until he was numb. He gathered Jasmine against himself, afraid to let go of her. She was still out.

He could see dim outlines of thrashing figures all around him; hear Cheng-Li's cries and her muffled commands but they made no sense to him. His vision gradually darkening, his mind closing down, Connor looked around once more.

There, silhouetted against the lightning, came a dark shape.

_No more girls_, Connor thought vaguely, as the shape drew rapidly nearer. It was faint against the horizon, blurred by the thick curtains of hail and rain. He could see the shape of secured sails.

Another ship.

They were going to crash.

Then everything blacked out at once.

_~Once we were together now we're apart_

_See that special star in the purple skies?_

_I think it's you up there calling me _

_So here I am, coming to you._

…**...=====================================================================================================================**

**Here ya go! Hope this makes it up for the delay. I swear I won't EVER do it again. I'm sorry, I've become obsessed with cliffies. I hate them too. **

**I do the poetry myself. I suck at it, I know. **** Working on it.**

**Don't forget to review.**

**~dawnghost a.k.a. Midnight Demonn.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Told you I'd update soon! ;D **

**Lots of candies and marshmallows for all the adorable people who appear in my list: **

Ashton, ClarVoYant2015, Shadowhunter4life and Renesmee Carlie Cullen 500.

**Shadowhunter4life:****So sorry about that reply. My mind was elsewhere. I'm not going to do that again. Point noted. Thanks for pointing it out to me. :) **

**Disclaimer: I DO NOT own Vampirates. Every character belongs to Justin Somper (Except the ones I invented of course) **

** ***

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Chapter Six: Possibilities**

Connor Tempest was floating in blue.

Various shades of blue in fact. Cool, green-blue, indigo, cerulean, azure, mint, mist, baby blue…thousands of blue swirled into greens and more blues. Melting into glacial shades which seemed to pass right through him. He floated in them, weightless, aimless as if the time never existed in the first place. He was slowly drifting down, down, down…

That was when the pain gripped him, a kind of liquid fire tipping into his veins. His eyes focused as he gasped, his body spasming and jerking as he tried to stop.

He was drowning.

Bubbles erupted from his nose and mouth as he propelled himself up, his chest burning with every movement he made. His red hair moved around his face in a coppery halo, brushing into his emerald eyes which were steadily panicking.

He couldn't swim.

He was stuck.

He looked down to see what was keeping him from breaking the surface. That was when Connor realized he was far too deep to rise up without any oxygen. He tried to swim; kicking his feet, but the waters seemed to be pushing him down, down, down…As he propelled himself up, the gold sunrays filtered through the waters, the deep blue of the ocean dissolving into lighter shades. He was going to make it. Just…a…little…more…

Connor broke the surface with a huge gasp, taking in the air greedily. His chest hurt with each breath and his head spun dangerously, but he was almost alright. He was more worried what had happened to the _Tiger_.

All around him, the great cloudless sky stretched to the limits of his vision. The sapphire sea gushed around him. Planks and the ruins of the ship lay floating all around him. He drifted towards a large plank and leaned his arms and chest on it, coughing water out of his lungs. And in the distance…

Land.

Beautiful, glorious golden sun-warmed island. His tired body urged him to move towards it. Every stroke caused cramps in his stomach and legs, but he kept going. One more…one more…one more…He was so tired. He wanted to sleep. His head felt so heavy…

Connor collapsed on the shore, his breathing erratic for awhile. The warmth of the sun flooded into his back and spread to his body, and he rested there, eyes closed.

The _Tiger_ was nowhere in sight.

It had obviously been destroyed, but where were the survivors? Was it possible that he was the only one alive? If so, why weren't there any bodies in the water?

Had he been thrown in the Sea sometime during the storm and the ship had carried on, its crew unknowing that they'd left one of them behind, alive? They must've thought that he was dead.

He was lost.

The Sea had carried him too far. Dread pinned him to the warm yellow sand. No ship. He was stranded. He was alone, unarmed…wait. His hand fumbled over the sheath, around the waistband. Nothing. The familiar hilt of his rapier was missing.

Dammit.

He rolled onto his back, coughing. Grit was plastered all over him and he was sodden to his bones. One side of his face was stiff with wet sand, and when he rubbed at it in irritation, he saw red on his fingers. His auburn hair stood up on his head in spikes, glittering with silica. The front of his white shirt was torn, ripped from the collar. Dissolved blood stain covered a patch on his left arm. He must've cut himself while he'd been tied to the mast of the ship. He was unarmed. What if he ran into someone unwanted? Such islands were booby traps for suckers-and the stranded ones like him.

He was so dead.

And so exhausted.

::^!^::

Jez Stukeley dug his fingers in his dark hair, thinking.

Hunger burned his already frayed veins, making his teeth ache constantly. He ran his tongue on his unsheathed upper canines. He'd never felt so weighed down before. This feeling was agony, and Jez Stukeley had never been patient. Not even when he was a human. A boy.

"_An obedient son. A wayward, sure-footed kid." The rasps filled the silence of the room__. Dim candlelight flickered, its light thrown over the boy who was sitting there in the middle of the tangled mass which was his blanket._

_Covered from head to foot in dust he was, his dark hair badly needing a haircut. He was a disgraced, pitiful sight, yet anyone who'd ever look at him would never feel disgust. The boy was angelic, cherubic. A perfect picture of innocence. He was pale under the dusty layer. Dark, enigmatic eyes wide open with terror, stared at a shadow in the darkness of the room._

"_I knew you weren't any of that." A voice slurred from under the blankets. "Useless pile of dung, that's what you are, boy. You can never do anything right. Never."_

_The boy lowered his eyes shamefully, hands turning into small white fists on the shirt he clutched in his lap._

"_Knew the mo yer mother declared her rights in the bloody ol' world, I did. Left me 'cuz of ya, ya useless scumbag. Never felt so abandoned, did ya? Well, you'd get a taste o' it soon enough…"_

_The boy's eyes welled with tears._

"_Pa, I wanna be a sailor like you." He murmured. "What's wrong with that?"_

"_Everything, my son, everything." His father slurred, passing out into a drunken sleep, right on the filthy floor, under the pile of faded blankets. No one disturbed him. No one did, in this cheap inn anyway._

Useless. That was what he felt. All his dreams had nearly been crushed. He'd made it to the Pirate Academy by luck. He'd worked hard, trained ruthlessly, uncaring of what others thought and did. He'd groomed himself over the time, crumpling up his past and throwing it away. He'd started a new life then. Forgotten where he came from.

But what was the point in remembering all of it now, when it would only pain him more? He wasn't sure.

What he knew, he'd changed himself too many times. Shedding his skin like a snake every year. Now, it was getting to him.

Change. Changing, like the seasons did. He'd seen very little of it in his adulthood and adolescence, but plenty of it in his childhood. He'd been locked away from the heart of the Ocean life when he'd been born, so the passion inside him was for ever new, always ready to learn or do something daring, something adrenalin-driven. It was the past which hindered him on every step, just like now.

He was too busy hating himself to find her. No, it was wrong, and he wouldn't dwell in it. Anymore. He'd promised himself when he was only ten years ago, free from his father's imprisonment and naïve to the world.

Jez sighed. He pushed himself up from his working desk, which was cluttered with all kinds of maps, various documents and footnotes. He swept them aside, his attention focused on a single piece of parchment.

In his own hand writing, the inked words spoke of an island. An island where he'd found hope and love. The ink was smudged because he'd written it in a hurry, two years ago.

The Blood Diamond Island.

The land of the dead, despair, deception and delusion.

::^!^::

Natalie scuttled back from her spot on the floor, getting away from the door as far as she could. Her heart was thumping hard in her chest and she grew dizzy with each pounding.

They were footsteps alright.

And they'd been coming straight towards _this_ room. She looked around her prison for a thousandth time, her eyes seeking a weapon-anything with which she could defend herself. There was nothing.

She'd had to fight the natural way then, if she had to. She had to get out of here. She had to know where she was, and somehow contact Jez. There was no way of electronic communication in this world, because of the lack of new inventions and gadgets, which was due to the steadily declining natural resources. The only way remained was of course through the seas. She didn't know how far the world had progressed in the five years she'd spent with the Vampirates. The ones who dwelled on the sea were very different. This world itself was very different. She'd never thought a world for the humans could be like this. Then again, she wasn't living in the human world anymore.

Suddenly, Natalie Velde heard the door rattle. She jerked out of her thoughts, cursing at herself because of her easy distractions. Looking up, she saw that thick door finally swung open without so much as a creak.

They had oiled the hinges before her arrival. Who were they?

A circle of bright yellow light casted on the floor of the darkened room. A shadow fell upon it, a very tall, dissorted one. She looked up to see the form of a man.

He was clothed from head to foot in black-wool perhaps, she couldn't tell. Her eyes hurt from the sudden expose to light, even if it was this dim. She felt herself stop breathing.

The man was so tall that his head brushed the ceiling. Tall and extremely-impossibly thin, a shadow himself. He held out a lantern in his oddly elongated fingers, illuminating everything in the tiny cell. Something clinked as he moved. A row of tiny white stones strung on a leather throng.

His face was covered. She couldn't tell what he looked like. But she felt a shiver pass through as his eyes-the only part that was left bare-scan over her.

Those eyes narrowed menacingly.

Then, before she got protest or even shield herself, the man was in front of her, yanking her to her feet. She gasped as the blood spurted down to her numb legs and feet. It hurt, standing up. But she had no choice.

The man took hold of her long plaited hair, and dragged her out of the room by tugging at it forcefully, as if he was steering a horse or herding a cattle. Moans of pain escaped her lips as she stumbled and slipped over the cold stone, her bare, scratched feet scrapping over it. Still, the man carried on heedlessly.

As she was being towed, Natalie took in her surroundings and couldn't help but wonder for a millionth time that where she was and how in the wide world had she gotten here. Because it was the latter, that strange happening, which disturbed her the most. It seemed dreamlike, unbelievable. She'd been transported in a blink of an eye.

They were walking along a tunnel, torches glowing brightly in their brackets on the stone walls. The walls looked damp: the green mass grew between the spaces in the chipped brown worn rocks. The floor was also made up of light brown stone, cold and ancient. Small fern-like plants grew from the holes in the dirty floor. Other than that, there were no signs of life, except them of course. The man continued to drag her by the force of her hair, pulling at it and twisting it so she'd hurry up. He had a strong grip, and held her in a pose from which she couldn't easily escape while they were walking. She'd think of a way.

The tunnels seemed to go on for ever, bending and turning in sharp directions. It all seemed to be underground because everything looked like it had never seen the sun and that awful, stale air which hung around her.

That heartless man yanked at her plait still, making tears well in her eyes.

"Please." She moaned. She couldn't fight yet. She was too weak. "Please, wait."

The man didn't even hear her.

"Please-I-I can't walk."

He pulled her along.

A gasp of pain escaped her as her legs finally gave out and she fell onto the floor. She squeezed her eyes shut to brace herself against the pain, expecting him to yank her hair again, but he didn't. She didn't feel anything.

Slowly, she opened her grubby eyes to look up. The man had stopped a few steps in front of her, looking down at her as if she was something he'd found sticking to the lavatory seat.

Her head hurt.

Letting out a quiet sob, she pushed herself to her feet, her legs trembling from the effort of it. She didn't want to die. Not now, not, like this. She had to find a way out first. She began to walk, tremors flowing through her body as she followed him as the stranger led on.

Now she could start to see similar dark doors on her either sides.

Their footsteps seemed to quicken.

Whispered voices filled the air.

Then-

They emerged from the tunnel into an opening, a large torch-lit cave. Shadows of all lengths and shapes decorated the purplish-red rock of the walls, flickering like some eerie creatures from another planet. This place was vast. And the roof was so high that she couldn't really make it. Perhaps this was so because it was obscured by clouds. At least, they looked like clouds.

The second thing Natalie noticed was that they weren't alone. There were probably hundreds of men like the one who'd dragged her here, all dressed the same way. None of them spoke, she saw. The only sounds were that of all the prisoners moaning or crying as they were dragged and thrown into this vast cave.

So she wasn't alone.

She could hear the splashing of water echo somewhere nearby. It was cold here. She shivered.

When the man stopped, several of his companions came forward immediately to help. She struggled, of course, trying to slip away but she knew it was useless. She was tied this time, gagged and blind-folded. Then thrown onto the rough, pocked floor like a discarded tissue paper.

Her heart palpitating wildly, she twisted her legs and felt the bonds cut into her flesh. The gag hurt her mouth. The stiff cloth over her eyes was yet another hindrance. Gritting her teeth, she tried pulling her wrists apart but the place where they dug into her skin burned.

She wasn't giving up yet.

She had to get the blindfold off first.

Something hard hit her on her left shoulder. A rock? It had definitely been solid. And it hurt. A lot.

Rough, calloused hands seized her from around the waist and in a second she was hauled over someone's shoulder. She screamed in anger, her voice coming out to be nothing but a muffled groan. She squirmed but whoever held her had a strong grip.

She grew tired after awhile.

Natalie let herself be carried; deciding that the best way to escape was to play along. These people would keep an eye on her as long as she struggled with them. When she'd given up-or pretended to, they'd leave her alone at some point. She just had to look for the right opportunity. Any tiny opening or flaw on their side and she'd be free.

Then nothing happened for a while. Everything grew quiet and she couldn't tell whether she was still being moved or not.

Natalie fell into a kind of half-sleep.

Her captor must've felt her going limp, because he adjusted her over his shoulder and carried on. As she bounced slightly due to the long strides, her blindfold started to slip over her nose. She bit her lip, lowering her face to allow it to fall. It didn't. It just loosened to the point where she could dimly make out the dirt-trailed floor of the passage. Shifting her gaze below to her captor's waist, she sought a weapon. Any kind of weapon. There it was, the hilt of a sword poking out of its sheath.

She was debating on how she'd reach it with her hands tied behind her back when she was, again, unceremoniously thrown down to the floor.

She winced as her left leg collided with the hard floor. It got twisted beneath her and she expected it to be bruised. No surprise there. The blindfold was snatched off her face.

They'd carried her outside now. The blinding light cut her breath short. Her captor didn't give her time to work out what was happening, but dragged her to her feet and then pushed ahead of him to make her walk. Natalie's feet were on the ground, but she couldn't take a step; her legs were much too weak to carry her weight. She collapsed on the grass.

"_Ave Rawen-Gai!" _A new cry rang in her ears. Blinking away the tears, Natalie saw where she was.

The land was huge, stretching into a wide, grassy strip beside Caribbean-blue waters. Was this some island? She didn't recognize it. There were no trees. Just the gently swishing green grasses. In the middle of the land stood a magnificent glass structure, domed and supported by what looked like crystalline pillars. They reflected the sun, scattering the white sunlight into a cluster of rainbow colors all around them. Gargoyles stood on the pillars, their wings unfurled, their faces carved into expressions that were terrifying and unearthly. They looked like demons.

She didn't want to go further.

The sky above itself was very strange. It was deep purple, as if a storm threatened to come.

"_Rawen! Rawen! Rawen!"_

The cries pierced through the air, and she realized that she was been dragged towards that beautiful yet nightmarish structure along with all the other prisoners and all of them were girls.

"_Rawen! Rawen! Rawen!"_

The cries sounded guttural, terrible, as if they were coming from parched throats. Icy fear flooded into Natalie for the first time, so intense that she stopped, paralyzed.

She would not go in there.

There were dead people in there. Calling out for the living ones. Not just dead. They weren't human. They had never been human in their lives.

Screams threatening to break out of her chest, she bumped into her captor, momentarily surprising him. She turned her body with the speed that surpassed a Vampirate's. She knocked her fist on her captor's neck which caused him to stumble backwards in shock.

He had not expected her to react like that.

So there was a possibility that these people didn't know what she was. Good.

Hauling her knee back, she smashed her foot into his stomach, forcing him to fall backwards, into his comrades.

Instantly, a horde of them were upon her.

She didn't know how she knew what move to make, how to step out of their clutches. Her instincts worked inside her like her muscles, moving her like a puppet.

Natalie snatched a sword from the fallen warrior, defending herself from the swishing swords and ropes around her as she searched for an escape route.

They were getting faster.

She was injured. She couldn't keep going for ever.

Oof!

Her blade clashed with one of their scimitars, forcing her backwards. Her arms shook with determination, her breath caught.

"Don't fight the dead, girl."

The voice was softer than a whisper, yet it carried was carried to her. Natalie's eyes widened. Her opponent threw her down, so forcefully that her blade slipped from her slick fingers and out of her reach.

No.

Natalie landed on her bum, sprawling onto the grass as the shock passed through her whole body like blood. The pain immediately washed over her and she felt faint.

The world in front of her was spinning madly before her eyes. The warriors parted to let the one who'd disarmed her step forward.

He was as thin and as tall as any of them, but still different in a way she couldn't comprehend. He wore a black mask, fingerless gloves and a matching bandanna so nothing of his skin was visible. He'd spoken to her, throwing her off guard. None of her captors had spoken before.

He was now adjusting his sword back into its sheath. As if feeling her terrified gaze upon himself, he looked up.

It seemed as if all the noise-even the sea's gentle lapping-had tuned out. It was deadly silent.

"We are peaceful people. We do not subject to violence willingly." He said quietly, almost nonchalantly. He was now straightening his gloves. "But we do like to take lives when given the opportunity."

::^!^::

Somewhere far away, in another sea, a ship sailed.

The wind whipped at its dark sails, the rain plummeting upon it like stones. A flag unfurled in the wind, beating hard, the skull and cross bones clearly visible to any viewer. Its crew carried on its work through the curtains of rain indifferently.

A man stood at its wheel, a tall man with a tanned, angular and a smooth face like soapstone, except for the length of a scar on his cheek. He looked extremely smug as he looked over the dark horizon.

Ah. The contentment after an attack always felt good. He liked it when pessimism went rewarded. Especially when the cargo of his ship was filled to the brim, almost bursting with treasure. It was one of the pleasures he never got tired of. He always wanted more of it.

"Captain?"

The man cast a sideways, bored glance at the young mariner.

"What is it now?"

"There are some visitors outside."

"Who?"

"They wouldn't say. Three of 'em. Dun' look like much o' fighters. Cloaked."

Ah. Entertainment was always welcome, wasn't it? But in this world, you had to be careful.

"What do they want?"

"They say they've come from the lighthouse. They've got some information about the change of sea-lanes and some…supplies."

The Captain smiled coldly.

"Bring them, then."

_~What the night cloaks from thy eyes_

_Mine see them all even when closed_

_

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**Taa-Da! Next chapter will be more focused on Jez, moi think. There are THREE adventures waiting ahead.**

**Would love to hear what you think.**

**~Midnight Demonn.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Thanks to all the lovely reviewers!**

**Disclaimer: The usual.**

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**Chapter Seven: Towards the Maelstrom**

"Grace Tempest! Would you _please_ stop mooning over that scallywag and concentrate on what I'm saying?"

Grace turned her head slightly, letting the wind catching her hair. "Lorcan, you're disturbing me."

Beside her, the Vampirate groaned and leaned his weight on the deck rail. If there would've been a wall in front of him, he'd have smashed his head against it in frustration. He'd been observing her for more than two days now, and she was getting weirder, more distant. She kept spacing out, which was starting to really irritate him.

"Disturbing you?" he scoffed. "You're just staring at him. You know, it's seriously creepy. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you've lost your mind."

Grace rolled her eyes. "Oh, I'm sorry if that's bothering you. But he's so…"

Lorcan leaned against the rail further so that his long arms dangled above the churning waters of the Atlantic Ocean. "What? Moronic? Dumb? Stupid? Oh, wait. I got it wrong. He's a bloody pompous _prat_."

She sighed. "What were you saying?"

Lorcan turned his face away from her and groaned again. "Doesn't matter," he mumbled.

Behind them, the crew of the _Nocturne _was enjoying the cold climate; the chilly air didn't bother them at all. The Captain had decided to take the unchartered, more challenging route to The Sanctuary this time, for some unknown reason. The ship had never been in this sea before. It was certainly an adventure. Their friend Darcy was on high end, constantly worrying that they were going to crash straight into the face of some glacier and be stranded in the middle of nowhere. In the middle of prison of several feet high ice. So far, they hadn't met anything like that.

Grace had to admit, Darcy did have a point. The thought _was_ disturbing. She was on the point of having frost bite. Even Lorcan wasn't _this_ cold. It was so cold that it was getting painful, but who cared. This was the change she'd been waiting for. It thrilled her. What if they got trapped here? She'd be stranded with that new comer, which wasn't bad thing at all. He was so new to this world that he was always asking questions around and she knew the answers to them. Most of them. The _Nocturne_ was a never ending, magical maze, always surprising them when they least expected it.

Despite Darcy's fears, Grace doubted it could sink. It survived the worst of the storms and attacks by enemies yet stayed in one piece which was a surprise because if it had been another ship, it'd be at the bottom of some sea by now, home to the marine world.

Ooh, Leo was now talking animatedly to a tall dark haired fellow. He was gesturing with his hands, and the other Vampirate was nodding vigorously. She'd never felt like this towards anyone before. That Vampirate had captured her attention like a fish on a hook. She couldn't look away and couldn't think of anything but what to say to him-which was not very helpful because Grace found out that when she grew nervous, she gradually grew tongue-tied or said extremely foolish things. She ought to take lessons form Darcy, who was a pro in such circumstances. She hardly slipped. She knew how to entertain someone, to be charming. Plus, her wacky wardrobe caught ever single person's attention-the larger population was of guys. Grace bit her lip, thinking that she was going crazy. She had never thought she'd ask Darcy this before.

And if Connor found out…

Speaking of Connor, where in hell was he? She'd hardly seen him this year. Okay, he had been promoted to the post of Deputy, but come on. It wasn't at all like Cheng-Li to not let him come-if he wanted to come, that is. Maybe Connor was finally getting over his past rejections and had found someone special after all. Oh, it would be so fun to attend their wedding…what would she wear? None of her clothes were suitable. Wait, why was she suddenly thinking like Darcy? Maybe…

A loud groan broke the train of her thoughts, and she jumped back into reality.

Grace sighed. "What is it now, Lorcan?"

Lorcan was staring ahead, his azure eyes wide. "That wasn't m-"

She could see the others looking in the same direction Lorcan was staring. A hushed murmur rose from the crowd which was rapidly gathering at the rails. Wind whipped at their clothes and hair and the ocean waves roared, roiling against the ship.

"What was that?" Leo joined them. "I heard an awful noise."

"Gee, I wonder why-," Lorcan began harshly. Grace elbowed him in the ribs to hush him and he grew silent immediately, glaring down at her as if she'd suggested going for a dip in the icy waters.

Another shrill, piercing noise split the air. Grace cried out, her hands on her ears.

"Is the ship breaking?" she shouted over the wind.

"Nah," Lorcan yelled back. "Can't. Grace," The waves were forming a tide now, rising higher. Dangerously higher. "I think you'd better go down!"

"What? No!" she cried as the tide hit the ship, splashing them with the sea so hard that Grace was nearly knocked off her feet. At once the Vampirate crew scattered, running to their appointed posts to wait for the Captain. This had never happened before; they were panicking. The ship rocked from side to side, as if it was indeed going down.

Another shriek filled the cold, arctic air.

This time, Grace screamed with pain, her hands pressing down on her ears hard. Lorcan gripped her in his arms, his own face scrunched up for a moment.

"Down, now!" he ordered. He nearly threw her towards the stairs. "Those who're vulnerable go inside! Others wait for the Captain!"

Waves rose in the horizon and the lightning cracked overhead. The dark sky thundered like mountains crumbling into dust. A storm was building up, which was quite ordinary for the Nocturners, but the nature had never directly made contact with them before. Worse still, they didn't know what was happening.

A fat rain drop splattered on Grace's forehead. She looked up to see more lightning. Her heart palpitating, she looked away, as more drops started to descend, hitting the deck like pebbles. And they came down harder. The rain fell onto the thick, leathery sails of the ship, which grew white luminous veins where they wet it.

She backed up against the stairs, looking around to help with anything. But there wasn't much to do.

There, she could see the black billowing cape and the top of the Vampirate Captain's hat. He was down there alright, issuing orders. Grace had never heard him use his voice like that before. He was shouting. She couldn't hear what he was saying.

Rain came down in thick showers, drenching the crew. Vampirates were supposed to repel water, but they weren't. They were sodden from head to foot, their clothes and hair plastered over their bodies as they worked on closing the sails which billowed wildly in the storm.

Where had Lorcan gone? She didn't want to be alone. She wanted to help him.

Biting her lip, she threaded her way carefully through the masses of the crew and the slippery deck, searching for her friends.

Then, the ship suddenly tilted to one side, throwing its contents to the side. Screams erupted in the air now. It was steadily growing darker as more heavier clouds rolled towards them. It was a nightmare.

"Lorcan!" Grace cried, searching madly. "Darcy!"

"Get back," a body slammed into hers, nearly knocking her off her feet. "C'mon. This way." He grabbed her by her arm and yanked her to the other side of the ship. Lightning cackled overhead. The Earth groaned.

The ship shifted, and Grace staggered into him. He grabbed her tightly.

"We've got to be safe," Leo said in her ear.

"Excuse me?"

"We have to jump into the sea," he hurried on. "Look up at the sails. They're destroyed, Grace. If the lightning fell…the ship will catch fire. You were standing right under them. We have to jump into the sea. It's our only choice."

"No!" Grace cried. "Are you mad? We'll die!"

Then, as if on cue, the sky flashed white as lightning streaked across the sky and fell down. It felt as if the world had shattered. The noise was deafening. At once, the dark sails caught fire-the bright blue flames licking at the timber structure greedily. In short words, chaos was unleashed.

Grace, her heart hammering, could only look up at the scene in shock.

But it wasn't even possible…

Her home, destroyed…

"_C'mon_!" Leo was already towing her towards the rails.

"But-my friends-," she stuttered, still stunned into a daze. It felt as if her mind had suddenly stopped working. Numb. She felt numb. So many people dead…so many casualties…

"Don't worry," Leo held her hand. "They'll be alright. Okay, hold onto me."

He turned his back to her, and she wound her arms around his neck. When she had ensured him that her grip on him was firm, Leo Zeus dived into the stormy void, with Grace. She screamed all the way down.

They hit the wall of icy waters hard. It stung and the shock vibrated all the way down into her core. There, right in front of them, the _Nocturne_ was steadily slicing through the churning, Arctic waters; the sails had come out of restrains and now flapped wildly, torn, around the lines. The ship tilted unsteadily. Flames rose into the sky despite the rail. The ship was going down. The ones who had escaped the fiery prison would probably survive, being Vampirates, if they found a land. The donors, however, were completely at the mercy of nature and their acceptors…

That was when Grace knew that the ones still stranded on the ship were doomed. She could only hope that her friends had survived this disaster.

::^!^::

"Land ahoy!"

"Release the anchor!"

"Steady now!"

Jez Stukeley felt the ship slowing down. Anticipation coursing through him, he looked down at the white mass of an island which rose out of the swirling clouds of mist.

The island.

It was exactly as he remembered, the white sand glittering under the moonlight, the hills cast in silver. It was beautiful, deserted and still forbidding. Haunted.

"Captain!"

He turned from the wheel to see Cecil running towards him. She had a smile stretched upon her delicate, Chinese visage. She was one of his friends who knew his past without any blurry gap. Jez's crew had rescued her from under the steep cliffs, nearly smashed against the jagged rocks. Her father had been a famous sword smith. When he'd refused a bargain offered by Sidorio-ex-Captain of Stukeley. Not Jez's. Never Jez's. Anyway, Sidorio had ordered his crew to finish the old sword smith because he knew too much of their plans. It was too bad, really, that Cecil didn't know what they had been planning. Otherwise, she'd have helped them with the battle two years ago, when Sidorio decided to gain power from the dhamphirs and take over the world.

"Cap-tain…we've…harboured…"

"Yes, I can see that," Jez said, moving towards the swing-ladder. Cecil stopped him again.

"But…" she seemed to be breathless. "Wait! You can't go yet…I…"

"Yes?"

"I've found a letter, Captain. A letter from your Natalie."

The rest of the world stopped for a few moments.

::^!^::

Connor Tempest felt the fine texture of sand under his feet turn into something jagged, rocky. He winced as it scratched against his feet. He bent in the moonlight, squinting. Not bleeding. Thank God. His soggy boots were slung over his back as he made his way through the darkness of the woods of the island, searching for something to calm his stomach down.

He carefully threaded his way through the undergrowth.

He walked onto something solid. Something stone-like.

Then-

The cold chilled him until he thought he wouldn't be able to move at all. Still his thoughts spun, faster and faster as the blazing winds lanced across his skin and he was huddled in a small heap, just trying to keep out of the blast as much as he could, breathing in the scent of rain.

_You can't just move from one place to another._

It's not possible, I know that! And that means this is all an illusion. A very clever, very good illusion, but still an illusion…

He swallowed, trying to make sense of this maelstrom. What had happened? Was he dreaming? His head wanted to explode.

_I can deal with illusions. I'm a dhamphir. It's only real because you think it is, so just imagine somewhere else._

Somewhere warm for a start. He remembered the _Tiger's_ cruising in Europe, in the swelter of Italy and the gloriously hot sun of southern France. The way it had warmed his skin, the scream of gulls. The heaviness in the air and the sand that burnt underfoot, the air simmering hazily. He fell into those memories.

It was with horror that he realised they evoked no emotions. Nothing. Just that curious void inside him that if she concentrated on, it was as if he was falling into a dizzying spiral that only led into darkness, into...

His eyes flew open.

Slowly the scene focused. A crystalline sky, the deeply cold colour of winter. And around him...a beach. But there was no semblance of heat. The sand on this beach was dozens of tiny crystals, not golden, but flawless icy-pale blue. The sea was black, immeasurable enough to hold one of the sea monsters of legend.

And in front of him, wrapped in a silk gown, stood Natalie.

She was chained.

And looked like she'd been through hell.

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**Review!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Danke , rezensent(in)! It means "Thanks, reviewers!' in German. Review now!

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**Chapter Eight: The Lost Beach**

Connor gaped at her blatantly, and she shivered under his gaze.

"_Natalie_?"

She nodded, a weak smile wavering on her lips. He stepped forward, the crystal sand under his feet crunching and squeaking. "Nat…what…where…" All the questions melted into one and he had difficulty in rationalizing himself. Confusion hit him like a tidal wave. What was happening, was this…a dream or something? Had he miraculously died? But if so, what was Natalie doing here? She couldn't be dead.

All the pain and joy in seeing her stopped him in his tracks again. His heart seemed to have stopped in mid-beat, brimming with emotions. He…oh, Lord, she'd changed. She was more slender, taller, had bloomed from adolescence into womanhood. She used to be pretty, now she was drop dead gorgeous. Her long dark hair fell like a curtain past her shoulders, down to her waist, plait moving gently in the wind. But that was where her normalcy ended.

Her hair, normally so straight and tied, were coming out of the plait in wild tendrils. She was whiter than snow, her eyes brighter than the sun. Her silk gown shivered in the breeze, torn and split at the hem and stained by the sea. Her eyes, usually so gentle and calm, where haunted, shaded with dark circles. Her usually flushed cheeks were colourless now. She was bare-footed, scratched and tortured until she couldn't even stand up straight. Something was wrong with her ankle. Long, corroding chains trailed behind her feet, as if she'd had to tear them out of their restrains so she could escape.

"Oh…," he stumbled forward again, willing himself to walk to her. "Nat…"

She watched him warily, silently, as he struggled. She didn't move.

"Who did this to you?" Connor whispered. "You've been…tortured…"

The last time he'd seen her, she'd been leaving for the _Covet_ with Stukeley. He'd been truly hurt when she'd made that decision. He hadn't even known that Nat and Stukeley…He should've suspected it, okay. Natalie had spent some…considerable there, on the _Blood_ _Captain_. She'd been messed around with. Maybe Stukeley _had_ been kind to her…Connor had certainly seen the way he'd been looking for her during the battle on the Blood Diamond Island, and afterwards, on the _Nocturne_.

But honestly? Connor couldn't help but feel betrayed. He liked Natalie, had done so ever since Lorcan had introduced her to him seven years ago. They'd had something then. Not anymore. Stukeley had staked his claim, branded her as his juice box. Connor couldn't believe that she'd chosen her doom.

It had been two years since he'd last seen her.

Now…

What had Stukeley done to her?

Connor stumbled to Natalie, his arms going around her.

"Nat…" he sighed against her hair. She felt cold. Trembling in her gauzy, silky clothes. There were bruises on her arms. Her neck was decorated with half-healed scars. He stared at them, his eyes going wide. Stukeley had done it this time. He'd been…

"Connor," her whisper filled his ears and he pulled back, gazing into her face.

"Tell me," he insisted. "Where am I? What did Stukeley do to you?"

She shook her head. "He didn't…it's…"

Her voice was unusually high and breathy. "I…"

"What then?"

"You're here…with me now."

He sighed, caressing her face with his fingers. It'd been too long. He knew something was wrong, because she had never let him do that. Even when Stukeley was insignificant in her life. "You don't make any sense."

Natalie bit her lip, gazing at him almost hesitantly. She took in a breath. Then, right before his eyes, her violet-green eyes filled with tears. One pearly-tear rolled down her cheek, stirring alarm in his chest.

Before he could speak, she said, "Connor, I'm dead."

::^!^::

"Where?" Jez demanded. "Why didn't you tell me that before?"

Cecil bit her lip nervously. She led him down to the Cabins, fidgeting with her hands all the way. She didn't answer him.

"Well?"

"She'd been writing it for quite a long time now," she finally replied, careful not to make an eye-contact with him because he was seething. She didn't quite believe she'd almost betrayed her Captain, her saviour. But she'd promised Natalie. Besides, she was Cecil's good friend. Natalie always kept her secrets, so why wasn't she allowed? It wasn't the question of loyalty, however. Natalie had told her to wait for the right time.

"Jez…she…"

"What?" he snapped, the irritation colouring his voice like fireworks now.

"She said to wait for the right time."

"You mean you knew it the whole bloody _time_?"

"She made me promise-," Cecil exclaimed, her back colliding with the wall as his anger made him explode.

"You waited till I was truly mad, racked with worry? She told you to wait till I'd kill myself, huh? STOP LYING AND SHOW ME THE DAMN LETTER!"

Cecil squeaked in fear, ducking into her cabin to fetch the note. Jez sighed through his nose, rubbed his face. His mind was consumed by all kinds of thoughts, maddening, wild, crazed thoughts. He couldn't believe it. His body was tensed, his sensing expanding everywhere.

Natalie. Why? How could she…wait, no. It was useless, to be angry at her. He didn't have the full story yet. He couldn't comprehend the situation clearly. His mind was already fogged with hunger, now this? He feared that he wouldn't take anymore of this madness anymore. It was true that when it came to Natalie, Jez was as stable as a charging rhinoceros. He'd changed from the very first drop of blood he'd stolen from her, growing into something humane, yet immersed in the night.

_Nat? _he thought, the silence in his head as deep as the mystery of her disappearance. If he admitted it to anyone, they'd probably think he'd lost it. People often wanted to know why the girl had touched his soul…his _echo_ so deeply, and he'd always smiled and shrugged and let them think it was a fairytale thing. It wasn't. It wasn't as simple as that. It was beyond secret, that answer, as real as a dream and as imaginary as the sun. It was something beyond the normal people's intellect, beyond the understanding of the Vampirate Guru, who was, indeed the dictionary of supernatural.

It had all began with a simple donor-acceptor bond.

Ended in something wondrous, something as mythical as they themselves were.

Something no one had understood. Not even he himself, the way he was constantly pulled towards her. Even she hadn't known until she'd…accepted him.

_I miss you. _

Cecil skidded out of her cabin, a folded sheet of parchment in her hand. She offered it to him. He took it, his fingers coiling around it almost distrustfully. Cecil left him alone.

It was utter rubbish, a lie. How would Natalie know what was to happen to her before even the sun had risen? As far as he knew, Natalie wasn't psychic, not even a strong telepath.

_Bloody_ _deputies_.

Jez unfolded the parchment, carefully avoiding the creases. Writing on the surface, the ink adsorbed on the both side, the sea of words and alphabets swimming in front of his eyes temporarily befuddled him. He shook his head, and focused.

It was her writing.

But it wasn't a letter. They were torn pages from a diary. He hadn't known that Natalie kept such a thing.

_He always told me to wait, _Jez read, _but I don't think I'm as patient as he was. I try to be, but I'm impulsive. It's always led me to my death. I'd been lucky when I was young. Not anymore. I've died. I've died a countless times, and each time a bit more painful than the last. These days, I think I'd just fade away, and he won't even notice that I'm gone._

_I've waited for him to appear, you know. He was…different when I first met him, but he changed. He's taught me a couple of very important things. Like how to survive. Like how to just say yes for the other people's sake. I think…._

_But he's too protective. He always crowds my world, suffocating me. I don't like to be restrained. I hate it when he does that. I wish he'd stop acting like he's…the way he is._

Jez swallowed. He?

Who was _he_? With a lump in his throat, Jez realized that she was talking about _him_.

_He's capricious. He's unpredictable. I wish he would try and understand that I can't cope with him. His life's so different from mine. He's sweet, but not The One…How can I tell him that?_

His lungs seemed to have shrunken; he could not breathe.

Something, a vile emotion suddenly filled him, green and…ugly. It hurt surprisingly close to his heart.

_Natalie_ _doesn't_…

How? Why? She'd been happy here, with him. He'd done everything she'd wanted. He'd become everything she'd dreamed of. This…craving, this desperation for her smile and her laughter wasn't just an act.

…_feel the…_

Jez Stukeley had never fallen so hard for someone before. He'd never, ever felt this way. This thing, this page in his fingers couldn't be a lie. She'd been…distant during the last few days, or was it just her imagination?

_...way for me the way I do for her._

But still, this evidence was like an iron fist in his stomach.

::^!^::

"Dead?"

Natalie nodded, leaning against him. She seemed feeble. The wind toyed with her hair, and he resisted the urge to tuck the loose strands behind her ears.

"I thought we were already dead, Nat. Being dhamphirs and all."

She gave a low, throaty laugh that didn't have any sign of mirth at all.

"No," she said. "Can you guess where we are?"

"The land of the dead?"

"This isn't a joke."

She tugged her plait nervously. "This place is called the Lost Beach. They say lost souls wander here." She almost looked frightened. "Are we lost?"

He took her fingers in his gently. "I hope not."

Connor looked around the deserted shore, the wind rumpling his auburn hair. The waves rolled to their feet, touching their toes and retreating immediately. The water felt cold. He tugged her away from it, onto the crystal sand. The wind seemed to be whispering something in his ears. Ridiculous.

"I thought it was a dream."

"Is this?" Her sight was dazzling Connor. She was…glowing, despite her injuries. She twined her fingers between his, smiling up at him as if Christmas had come early. His heart thudded almost painfully in his chest.

"Am I dead, then?" He forced the lump of nervousness down his throat that was stubbornly preventing him to speak. One more smile from her and he knew he'd start to blush. Ah, hell. She was beautiful. More beautiful than he'd ever seen her. He was beyond happy to see her without that wretched Vampirate around to snatch her away.

"You're here," she retorted. "How did you get here?"

"Actually, I was thinking about you. And then, _wham_…" quickly, he told her what had happened to the _Tiger_ and about the lonely island. Her eyes widened almost disbelievingly.

"It…happened to me too," she breathed. "Only that I wasn't thinking of anything like you were. And I was in this room…" As she recalled her tale, he eased her down to sit on the crystal sand. It crunched under their feet, but didn't cut into their flesh. The ground felt cold due to them.

Connor hadn't realized how much his feet hurt until he'd collapsed in front of her. He listened as she explained about the tiny dark cell and the strange dark things that had escorted her to this green island, and the strange bizarre shouts, and how she'd attacked her captors. He was impressed. Then Natalie told him about the man who'd defeated her within a blink of an eye. Then her pure black oblivion.

"They left me in a sort of a moor," she said tiredly. "I wandered there, alone, for quite a long time. Lost track of time, you see. That man, his name's Rawen, the one who stopped me from slaughtering his soldiers. He's the ruler here. He's called the White King."

"Whoa," Connor whistled. "Where is this going?"

"I think he likes me. I mean, I've heard that he usually kills those who resist their fate, whatever that is. He spared me and brought me here. He doesn't like to explain things much, but I'm glad I'm alive…yet. Rawen checks up on me a lot. I mean, because these lands…they're sort of mauled by time. They keep shifting into different landscapes and it can be dangerous. Yesterday, this place was a jungle, can you believe that?"

He arched his back, exhaling. He cast a wary glance around them. "If you'd told me all this before my accident, I'd laughed myself crazy. But now? Yeah. Yeah, I believe you."

Silence ensued between them.

Connor was still looking around. Instead of being afraid or getting panicked, he showed open, sincere interest. Natalie hadn't thought that he'd believe her so…readily.

"Aren't you scared? Or worried that you're…gone?"

"Me? Naw. Not really. I'm curious."

"But what about Grace? And…Jasmine?"

"Grace will be okay. Lorcan Furey will take care of her. As for Jasmine…" He trailed off, aware that she was observing him. "Jasmine…I don't…I've never, you know…"

Natalie grinned lightly. "Still find it hard to talk about girls to girls, huh?"

"Huh. I was never shy, Nat."

"_Right_," she said sardonically. "That time when you nearly cracked your skull open and lost all your limbs because…"

"I was deeply enthralled by your singing, _ma chére. _ I couldn't resist risking the danger of cracking my skull open and losing all my limbs. I hadn't known that you could sing or I'd have badgered you about it until poor Rae would've gone ballistic and stuffed you in his drawer to protect you."

Natalie burst out laughing. "Are you _serious_?"

He took her hand. "Of course I am. It's great to see you."

"You too," Natalie confessed. "I've missed this." She sighed, looking towards the black ocean. "Con, when you were…did you…meet Jez?"

Connor had known that she'd bring this up sometime. He didn't like to be reminded that she'd been branded as the ex-evil Vampirate's juice box forever. He didn't like that at all.

"No," he looked away. "I didn't even know what had happened to you. I haven't seen Grace for eons now. I'd been busy on the ship."

"Oh."

"Does Stukeley know what happened to you? Does he know that you're dead?"

"No."

"How did you die, Nat? I know how I died. At least I think I know. Why you?"

"I have abso-bloody-lutely no idea. It was so freakin' weird."

But to think what the others would go through when they found out that the two of them were gone. Dead. The idea was horrible.

"Maybe he'd taken too much," Connor suggested, referring to Jez. Natalie knew that Jez had betrayed his friends and everyone human by choosing Sidorio. Jez Stukeley had gone to the dark side, had turned into a hunter. Predator. He'd nearly destroyed harmony aboard the _Nocturne. _He'd put everyone to serious danger. But he'd realized his mistakes, hadn't he? He'd changed. He'd reformed. And they'd forgiven him. Even Bart and his wife, Cutlass Cait. But not Connor. It seemed like he'd never forgive Jez. She'd never asked why.

"No," Natalie said. "He never took much. Connor, he's changed. I don't know why you can't accept that."

"It isn't a question of 'can't', Nat. He took you away. He risked your life over and over-"

"But he-"

"No, he doesn't. It's just the cursed instincts and reactions cutting in. His kind can never truly care for someone. They're echoes, without any soul. How could you ever-"

"Stop." Her voice had turned harsh.

Connor stopped immediately. Something…was out there. In the darkness of the roiling black sea. Something…cold. Waves of arctic wind pulsed through him. It generated power. The world had gone quiet. Mute. The sky darkened and thundered.

"Rawen," Natalie whispered, her face going pale. "He's here, Con. He found out."

What exactly, he wanted to ask but he kept quiet. He took Natalie's hand in his own and gave it a squeeze. If that guy had spared Natalie's life, then why was she so afraid of him?

As he watched, in the middle of the stormy sea, a whirlpool appeared. It formed into a gently cascading stairway, falling into the depth of the sea. Connor watched, more fascinated than afraid. After the first encounter with Vampirates and then the battle with his father, he never seemed to be scared anymore. But then, he never had talked about what had happened that night, when he'd gone to face Sidorio alone.

Then the wind picked up speed. Howled at hem as black swirls erupted from down the stairs. Connor resisted staggering back. He was not frightened.

He could feel her shaking beside him.

_Dammit_, he thought. _Not even the _Blood Captain_ had scared her like this. Who is this guy?_

"What did he do, Nat?" he had to yell over the wind. "Is he really a White King?"

She nodded, her long hair flapping behind her. "Don't get scared, Connor. He can taste fear and he devours it. Don't let him use you."

Before Connor had any time to ask her what she exactly meant, the White King appeared between the waves.

And that was when Connor felt the fear slam into his chest.

_Fascination's got allure; how you tease, how you leave me to burn...

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**I hate this chapter but I can't help it. It's totally reflecting my mood. Daaamn! Anyways, do review. Maybe it'll cheer me up. Lyrics from **_Tomorrow never dies_** by **Sheryl Crow**.**

**~Midnight Demonn. **


	9. Chapter 9

**Danke, rezensent! **

**This chappie is dedicated to you, my faithful reviewer, (you know who you are) and all those people who added this fic to their faves. Lub ya all.**

**DISCLAIMER: The usual. Trust me I don't want the possession of the series. I still like the very arcane Jez Stukeley. So I shall continue for his sake.**

**Sigh.**

**Man, am I getting crazy? Sometimes I wish the fictional characters really existed so I could ask them what they were feeling. Writing about the maelstrom of a character's quite exhausting.**

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**Chapter Nine: The Other**

It felt like someone was pounding the side of her head with an axe. Someone who obviously possessed murderous hate for her and wanted to kill her. Not convenient. Ouch.

They had said the end felt like the beginning. Grace wasn't quite sure what they'd meant by that. Was it possible that when she died, she'd find the answer to that? She wasn't suicidal-or homicidal-whatever, by nature. But to bear this much pain? For the very first time in her life, she wished she could die.

Flashes after flashes of broken bits of memories and scenario of chaos tumbled in front of her vision, clashed with red and black and violent, poisonous green. Echoes of heart-felt screams-all in the past now, still resounded in her ears until she thought she couldn't take it anymore.

Grace had escaped the burning ship alright. The whole idea-the Nocturne burning-was rather surreal. Absurd. It was something her rabid father hadn't been able to achieve. Sidorio had been quite determined to destroy this majestically ancient ship. Hell-bent was the correct word. If it hadn't been for Connor, she had a pretty clear idea that they'd all be sawdust. Or food for the marine creatures. It wasn't a nice picture.

But hey, now? Grace just couldn't believe that the evitable nightmare had transformed into the inevitable one. As it started to sink in, she shuddered with unrepressed horror.

The world seemed to be tilting to and fro slightly.

Then the pain lanced through her left thigh, like a splinter getting stuck deeply in her leg muscle, making her cry out. Then, as quickly as it had come, it vanished.

Before she knew it, her eyes sprang open. Grace was panting, looking up at two golden orbs.

"There," Leo said gently, smiling. "That okay?"

She managed a weak nod before her eyes crashed shut again. She drifted into an abyss.

::-.-::

His eyes felt sore. But he strained them anyway, ruffling through the stacks of ancient paper. The smell of dust was strong in his nose. But it didn't matter. He'd found it finally.

He carefully took the frail map out from the pages of an old diary, her diary, to be exact. He knew he shouldn't be snooping, but this urge had won. He was the Captain of this ship. He had absolute right to go through anything of any member of his Crew.

He was sprawled at the edge of the bed, his long legs crossed on the wooden floor. A blanket-which had clearly been stolen from the bed, draped around his shoulders like a heavy, comforting cape.

To anyone who might look at Jez Stukeley now, would only stare at him. It wasn't that he looked too human, or sick, or whatever. It was something that had changed him from the inside, like black ink diffusing into every cell of his body. His short dark hair were mussed, falling into his eyes. His skin had a pale pallor, marble-white. Dark smudges under his eyes symbolised how much he'd suffered from her loss, but nothing more.

He hadn't grown any weaker, which was strange because he hadn't taken any blood since her disappearance. He had had the lust for it, still had it, but it seemed to be dying away now. Still, he felt just like he had when he'd been woken as a creature of the night. Fresh. Alive…young.

Lost.

Distant.

Gone.

He felt as if he was crumbing away, ebbing into the time that would never end. It hurt him, but he shut his feelings down, only to allow numbness take over.

As he was pulling out the map Natalie and her brother Rae had found in the cargos of the Nocturne, he caught a word in the pages of her diary. He stopped, heart palpitating. He shouldn't read it. He knew that. But curiosity got better of him.

_And curiosity killed the cat, _he thought. _But I'm already dead. Woo-hoo._

Setting the sheaf aside, his thumbed the page open. He saw her neat writing, and then a little sketch at the bottom.

A boy and a girl, standing hand in hand, looking up at the sun. The wind had messed up their hair and clothes, but he could see that they looked happy. Content. Jez hadn't known that Natalie could draw before. This was interesting, because she'd gotten most of the details perfect. She'd made a drawing of herself with Connor Tempest.

_He's been nice to me ever since he found out what I am. Grace had reckoned that he'd probably freak out, which he hadn't. I think we're closer than ever before. We trust each other; understand each other without any words. It's like we're telepathic. I would be sitting at the table, and he'd be looking at me with that adorable musing expression on his face, and he'd know that I was getting bored. And he'd transform the whole core of the conversation, just for me._

_I think it's because of what happened a few days ago. When I couldn't find my donor Art, Con offered to be a substitute. Was that some hidden gesture? I have to know. He's one of my best friends here, besides Rae and Grace. We're a rather tight circle, with Darcy and Lorcan thrown in. Did they notice this about Con too or is it just my imagination that his feelings have changed…?_

Jez stopped reading.

He shut the little diary, stuck it back under the mattress and got up. He shoved the map in his pocket and shrugged off her blanket. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't…

A bond.

So she'd had multiple bonds. Was that even possible? Why hadn't she ever mentioned it to Jez before? Why had she lied to him? The worst thing about being lied to was that he wasn't worth the truth in her eyes. Had he failed her that miserably?

Jez forced the lump down his throat which had the consistency to form repeatedly these days. His entire jaw hurt. He wanted to feed. Now.

But…he couldn't. His will crumbled up instantly. His thirst evaporated, leaving him standing there, weak and shaking.

There was a knock on the door.

Cecil came inside with the quiet way she had. She analyzed the haphazard state of the cabin carefully then at his face.

"Jez, hon," she began softly. "You've got to stop this charade."

"I can't." Was it his voice breaking? Or was it his heart? He couldn't tell. "Help me, Cecil. Please."

Cecil, in all her years with this strong, independent Vampirate, had never seen him in such a vulnerable , who'd always helped the ones weaker than him, had always lent a hand to anyone who was in need. True, he'd been beyond evil in his past, but the past had faded now. This was a confused, transformed man. A man who'd been badly broken.

Cecil didn't hate that girl exactly, but she'd never say that she'd liked him either in the first place. That girl had been weird, with her wide, multi-shaded violet eyes and a faraway expression which made her look so innocent. Natalie Velde was everything but innocent. Her life hadn't exactly been a memorable journey, but it didn't been that she'd have to rub it o Jez too. Cecil felt a fierce protectiveness rise inside her, for this man, who'd saved her life from the edges of swords alone.

So she stepped ahead and did what neither she nor Jez had ever thought she would do.

Cecil hugged him.

He was way taller than her, her hear only came up to his chest. He was deathly cold. Trying not to shiver, she tightened her hold and felt him break from the inside.

"She didn't want me," he moaned.

"Ssh," Cecil soothed. "We're gonna get you someone better. What she did wasn't right, leaving you like that, but now cela ne fait rien."

A silent sob. She felt him shudder as he battled within himself not to show this to her.

"It does though, Cecise."

"To you, sans doute." Her eyes were bright. "But not to her."

"She could be dead," Jez began, his voice cracking. "Or alone, thirsty-"

There was a loud rap on the door. Before Jez could wipe the wetness away from his cheeks, Kenyon poked his head in.

"You decent-?" He paused. "Jez? Have you been howling your lungs out again? Mate, she'll turn up. Females have a legacy of turning up at wrong moments. Don't need to lose your manly dignity now."

"Sh-," Jez caught himself. He wasn't sure he wanted to tell them this. "What do you want?"

Kenyon cautiously eased himself into the room and shut the door behind him. "Mariana hinted that you two were in here. I wanted to make sure that you just weren't getting cosy or something. And oh-we're going to get in a storm for awhile. It may get us off the course when we leave. The coast is checked, so is the forest. No sign of her. I think you should check this out yourself, Captain."

"Right." Jez sighed inwardly. Where was she? Cecil's hand touched his shoulder gently. For a moment he could not muster up the courage to look in her eyes. God, had he lost it? Embarrassment flooded through him like a tidal wave. He couldn't remember the time when he'd cried over a girl. Ever. But he said it anyway. "Thanks, Cecil."

"No problem."

Jez left her standing in Natalie's cabin. Kenyon followed, talking feverishly. Cecil listened as his voice faded.

Slowly, she turned.

Jez Stukeley had lost control. He was heart-broken, beyond repair now. She'd seen it in his eyes. He'd cried. Almost wistful, she slumped down on Natalie's bed and kneaded her forehead. Jez was like her elder brother-Cecil couldn't bear to watch him like this. He was in his most vulnerable state right now. One more slight push and Jez was doomed. Of course he'd been trying very hard to conceal it, but he didn't know how easily he could be read. And Jez had enemies out there.

That girl had ruined Jez's life.

She would pay.

Soon.

And just as Cecil thought this, she saw something peeking out from under the edge of the mattress. Something dark. Leather bound.

A diary.

This ought to be interesting.

::^^::

Curricles of mist swirled past her feet as she walked through its translucent wall. While it penetrated her surroundings, it seemed to seep through her as well. The cold felt damp against her skin, and flavoured her mouth with brine. It clung to her body like a sodden shawl, its icy air woven into her hair like ribbons.

She was standing at the center of curling clouds of mist, straining her eyes.

"There's someone here," he heard her whisper. The aroma of fear was tangy and spicy around him, and he felt it filter into him too. Conclusively, he laced his fingers with hers because it was all he could do as they stood on the misty dark beach. The time seemed to stretch on, endless like the roaring black waves themselves. For how long had they been standing there? Hours? Days? Weeks? For how long had they both died? The very thought of death made him shudder for he still felt alive, still felt the heat coursing through his veins. He could feel the tiny frantic beats of her heart pulse through her wrist. So how could she imply that they had died?

The wind whipped at them, as if trying to ebb away their fears.

Connor could recall the last time she'd sensed someone coming. It had just been a swirl of wind and rain over the rippling, raging mass of dark sea, an optical illusion. But it had been enough to shake her confidence. She'd got twitchy after that, as if she was aware of someone watching her. For the first time in his life, they'd been facing each other with an awkward silence ensuing between them like an ever-increasing storm cloud.

"He's here," Natalie whispered, her fingers tightening into a fist underneath his, in comparison, large, calloused hand.

_Who_? He wanted to ask. But his confusion was cleared a minute later as the thick wall of mist began to recede.

The air grew icy cold-which was a euphemism. It sent sharp, painful jabs of pain in his limbs. It took all of his will not to let his knees buckle and curl into a ball, a safe way to avoid whatever was coming his way because he couldn't run anyway.

Three dark figures emerged from the soft white haze of the desolated beach. They were wrapped in dark clothing, covered from head to toe in the black uniform, leaving only their eyes and hair bare. Swords glinted maliciously at their weapons belts. Long, slender-yet deadly swords, which could rip a person into ribbons without any effort. Connor found himself suddenly fascinated instead of scared. What would it feel like to hold them in his hand? His mind shifted to battle mode then, quickly analyzing their posture and searching for tiny, hidden weaknesses he could use against them. These guys were obviously well-trained-they moved like predators on prowl.

"Well, well, well," the middle one in the trio drawled. "What do we have here?"

Connor's blood ran cold.

He knew that voice.

And he'd thought that he'd been murdered by the Pirate Council for his behavioral disobedience and the assassination of the Piracy chairman just because they wouldn't open up another route for him, years ago. Connor had thought that this bloody sting-ray would be kicked straight to the burning and smothering bowels of hell long ago.

But he was standing there, clothed exactly he'd done when they'd cold-bloodedly murdered one of Connor's best mates.

Natalie, of course, didn't know that Connor had known this killing machine once. But it was evident that he'd evoked some kind of terror in her: Nat, who could calmly stare into the death's face, and tell them to do something that, would make even Bart uneasy, who was practically the dictionary of curses that led to endogenous wars.

Captain Draloulis, from the Albatross.

Jez Stukeley's murderer.

::^.^::

The setting sun hid behind the wafting bit of gauzy cloud.

Grace Tempest lay on the sand and stared at it, following it with her emerald-green eyes. She looked quite calm and collected there, on the lonely white beach. The gulls screeched over the roaring waves of the ocean. The wind felt like icy jabs on her skin. She was covered in dried sea-water, so that the salt had crusted in her hair, her clothes and her skin, making everything stiff. Even her eyelashes were stuck together.

Beside her was another girl, pale and extremely exhausted. Her usually perfect bob was all disarray, bits of hair sticking up in weird angles. Her fine clothes were rumpled, her jewellery lost in the sea.

"Kenyon's going to _jilt_ me," she moaned raking her slender fingers through the tangled black mass of her hair. She tried to comb it with her fingers.

"He isn't going to notice," Grace retorted dully. "He hardly notices anything new, Darce. Please stop fussing over yourself. We've just been through a ship-wreck, for God's sake. We saw a ship burn that-that wasn't supposed to burn." Her voice broke.

Darcy sighed loudly. She smoothed out her tattered magenta skirts anyway, and looked down at her friend's forlorn form pityingly. "Grace, darling, I told you that the Nocturne doesn't get destroyed that easily. I've seen it happen countless of times before. The Captain must've gotten the fire in control after we'd jumped and had been swept away by the sea. It happened once. Though, usually some of the crew does get lost during the process. But they always get found. We'll get rescued the moment the Covet appears, and then Jez can help us locate our ship quite easily."

Grace sat up slowly and pushed her auburn hair out of her face. Her skin looked so creamy in contrast to the white sand. "Do you know that they are going to be extremely angry? It's not like they'll censure your appearance right now. We're calling them in the just barely after the sunset. I certainly don't like to ask them to help."

Darcy's dark eyes grew wide with disbelief. "They're our _friends_, Grace! How can you even _think_ like that?"

But the red-head just turned away sullenly.

"I don't know what's bothering you," Darcy carried on. "I mean, we're here on this island. Safe for now. We've got Leo and Lorcan with us. Why're you complaining? The guys are perfectly fit to save us from any kind of danger. Our ship will find us. Or we'll find it ourselves. I don't know about you, but if the Covet will provide us warm beds, at least. I know they'll be happy to help. They're all nice guys-"

Grace's eyes were dark now. "Oh? Have you forgotten what that bloody leech did to you all those years ago?"

The silence which ensued between was not pleasant at all. Not in the least. It seemed as if the whole world had changed with just those words.

Darcy was one of Grace's best friends. So of course she'd know and expect Grace to behave like this. But-this, this wasn't something Darcy could easily figure out. She'd never seen or heard Grace act like this before. She was taking everything so negatively.

But what stung, was what Grace had just asked her.

Darcy had been sensitive about that for a long while, but she'd forgiven Jez Stukeley for breaking her heart. She loved someone else now, and Jez was now just a friend. An altruistic friend, no less. Jez had reformed in many ways, and all in good ones. Darcy would never want someone to insult him, and Grace-_Grace_! Had just done so.

And she'd called him a bloody _leech_.

Darcy had every right to get upset-she was just the same as Jez. Someone who survived in this world by sucking blood out of healthy, living bodied. But that didn't make them leeches. They had donors, donors who were only too happy to oblige. Grace had just called Darcy's kind parasites. Grace could've slapped her and she wouldn't have been this hurt.

There was no need to insult your friend-friend who was going to help them right now-even if you were that upset. Even Connor didn't insult them like this.

"You have no right." Darcy Flotsam's tone had never been so cold. It could've frozen up the sun. "To insult Jez for no reason. It is completely my business of what he did to me all those years ago, and also my business, how I dealt with it. You need to loosen up a bit. And if you want to live among us, watch the filth on your tongue. We're not that patient."

With that, she slid to her feet in one, cat-like motion, gathered up her ruined skirts, and stomped away.

Grace stared at her, her mouth taut.

What had just happened here? She thought, as it begun to sink in. Horror flooded in her. What had she been saying? Of course she…she…

Oh God. Had she just insulted Jez? Jez, who'd always been to nice to her?

Grace shook her head. Her thoughts felt sluggish. Something weird gnawed at her stomach.

What had she just done, insulting her family? For no reason?

What was wrong with her?

"Darcy! Wait, I'm sorry!" she clambered to her feet and ran after her friend.

::^!^::

The island looked deserted, alien. The cold wind brushed by his cold skin, ruffling his clothes and hair. In front of them the sand stretched on into the verdant green forest that was drenched in night shades.

"I can't believe this," Kenyon muttered.

"Pardon?" Jez looked up confusedly at his mate. He was leaning against the tree, his fangs unsheathed and indenting his full lower lip. The coppery scent of blood perfumed the air, filling the night like a bad premonition. Submerged in twilight, his crew flickered through the forest, feeding freely on a village of natives just in the middle of the dense foliage. Feeding like this wasn't an option. Jez had grown tired of seeing his crew get weird like the Nocturners. The crew of the Covet needed something fresher, something with a new taste. This was the perfect opportunity.

They hadn't noticed the village the last time they'd been here.

"You, actually," the deputy turned his pale eyes to the cloudy sky above. "Not feeding at all…for what, three months now? Jeez, Jez. How're you managing without a single drop?"

_Love_, Jez thought, then pushed that thought away. He shrugged, twining his fingers together. Yes, he…but it didn't matter anymore, admitting it. She didn't feel the same way, and it was the first time ever that Jez had felt something for a girl and she'd rejected him. It was a huge blow, perhaps to his ego, perhaps to his confidence. He'd already stumbled and fallen into her the first time he'd taken her blood into himself. For two years he'd kept it quiet within himself…

"I don't want the bond to break," Jez said finally, his voice soft.

"One course wouldn't, mate," Kenyon assured him kindly. "Your guys are nice and content with their positions or you'd be over thrown in an instant. You're in no condition to-," he paused, freezing. A second later Jez knew why. Something had crunched in the nearby bushes. Like old leaves under a boot.

Jez turned his senses outward, touching everything with his mind. The night had suddenly gone dead-quiet.

Kenyon exhaled. "Anyway, as I was-"

Jez held up a hand, signalling him to be quiet. Kenyon stopped, curious. There was presence there, somewhere. Someone was watching them.

Jez stepped away from the tree, carefully straightening himself. He could sense that someone, a mild presence upon his skin. He shook his head and told Kenyon to carry on anyway.

Kenyon sighed dramatically. "Enough, Sherlock. Even my mother didn't paw through my private life like that. Anyway, you need to feed. I still don't get how you're managing it all. I mean, I'd be long dead by now, if I were you. You're not addicted to blood like the rest of us, as if you're almost immune to-"

This time, Jez Stukeley moved before he heard the leaves rustle again. He pinpointed that being, hidden overhead, in the trees. Whoever it was, it had been there ever since they'd gotten here. It wasn't good. Someone had been spying on them.

His foot collided with the trunk of the tree he'd been leaning against earlier, and there was a sound like an explosion. The tree snapped-and it was pretty thick. If a normal being had done it, they'd have broken their leg into fragments. But supernaturalism helped sometimes.

Kenyon let out a surprised yelp and sprang out of the way just as the tree buckled, and with a loud, resonating snap, fell on the ground. The birds, disturbed, squawked loudly, startled, as they were unsettled.

And there, still under the heavy branches, was a moaning figure.

Jez grabbed her arm before she could get up and before she could struggle, Kenyon who'd finally caught on to what was happening, hooked his leg around her legs to keep her secure. His blade was unsheathed in a flash and a silver gleam and pressed against her throat.

The girl sputtered, a tiny frail sound escaping from her.

"What did you hear?" Jez hissed, not bothering to obscure his fangs.

The girl's eyes widened for a moment, but she was still frightened. "Please-"

"Speak!" Jez ordered, his voice deepening as Kenyon pressed the blade tighter against her flesh. Tears overflowed from the girl's dark eyes.

Now that she wasn't hiding her face from him, Jez could see that she had a tattoo-a black heart-over her right eye. Her hair was long and curly, midnight black against her pale, creamy skin.

She was also a vampire.

"I can help you find her," she gasped.

_~Once in finesse of fiddles found I ecstasy,  
In a flash of gold heels on the pavement.  
Now see I  
That warmth's the very stuff of poesy._

* * *

**I hope this makes up for the long wait!**

**A warm, chocolate coated Review would be nice.**


	10. Important AN Must read

**Hey, y'all. Uh...Anyone...out there? Hello? I'm so so SO sorry that I haven't updated for about, TWO years, yeah? I've been so busy...moving, college, moving...I know I've probably scared you guys away through my hiatus...I'm really sorry about that! Anyway, I've decided that it's about time that I had my own characters to write about. :/ I've started this new story:**

**His Evil Cinderella  
**

**Can it be possible that Rae Wyman really was once Prince Charming and that his Cinderella turned evil and killed him? His strange nightmares worry him more and more. He just wanted to have a normal college life. What if...his Cinderella was resurrected? More importantly, why does this nagging feeling tell him that somehow the history is going to be repeated?**

**It's basically a more polished, BETTER, edited version of my old story, Rosa Obscura. Please check it out. That is, if you've not abandoned me. Pleeease?  
**

**I won't be posting much here anymore. At least, I don't think so. Not in the immediate future. I'll be working on HEC. Cheers. Here's the link:  
**

** story/2012008-his-evil-cinderella**

**Thank you so much for reviewing my (really badly written) stories, guys. It meant a lot to me.  
**

**XOXO,  
**

**~Midnight.  
**


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